


Arisen

by BonnieScotty



Series: Risen From The Ashes [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, Catelyn Tully Stark Lives, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Dragons, F/M, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, King Jon Snow, Mad Queen Cersei Lannister, Married Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Multi, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, R Plus L Equals J, Robb Stark Lives, Targaryen Incest, Targaryen Restoration, Targlings (ASoIaF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 92,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonnieScotty/pseuds/BonnieScotty
Summary: When Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow attack the capital in the final war for the throne, they make the fatal error of underestimating Cersei Lannister and what she will stoop to in order to remain Queen.An expansion on the one-shot I posted for the holidays Risen From The Ashes.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Talisa Maegyr/Robb Stark
Series: Risen From The Ashes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101566
Comments: 105
Kudos: 180





	1. Jaehaerys I

**Author's Note:**

> When I posted Risen From the Ashes, I didn't expect to get as many hits as it did. It was a random thought that popped into my head some time in June in the middle of lockdown. I wasn't intending to do so, but I really liked the idea so I did it in a one-shot format. 
> 
> But after I did, I got a few messages on the sites I post my works on asking for me to expand on the idea. It's not going to be a full story, and you don't need to read the other one to read this, it just goes into much more detail on it.

Upon seeing the gates up ahead, he really didn't know what to think. Today, it was all ending, and it ate at his nerves something fierce. It was rare that Jon got nervous but he always did before a battle. However, this wasn't just a battle. This was going to be the deciding moment of who wins the game, and he didn't know what to think. Robett Glover was standing beside him alongside Ser Davos, with their remaining seven thousand men behind them. It was crazy to think that only eight years ago, he had been riding north to Castle Black, yet here he is, at the place his ancestors has risen from the ground.

He was still getting used to it, but on the journey down, he'd had a lot of time to reflect on his actions. When the words fell from Sam's lips in the crypts; he had been heartbroken, angry, lonely, and happy all in the one go. His entire life he had wanted to know who his mother was, and Eddard had never told him. He'd gotten to a point that he had simply accepted he would never know the truth of it all. He'd heard the rumours, of how it may have been Ashara Dayne, then the ones where it was someone called Wylla, alongside the one where he was the son of a Fisherman's daughter. 

Yet as always with him, life liked to screw with him. It was a known fact that Eddard Stark was a terrible liar- but he was probably the best liar there was. Not many people would've done what he had done, would have risked what he had risked. By him claiming Jon as his own, he was putting his own family on the line. A new wife he barely knew as they'd been wed days before he rode to join Robert Baratheon in the war, a new-born son in Robb too. But he had done the unimaginable, raised him as his son when he was actually his nephew. Jon remember the confusion he had felt when Sam had told him, and he remembered yelling at the older as he believed he was lying to push Dany to the side.

Gods, Dany.

Love was something he never thought he would get to experience, yet he had experienced it twice. From when he and Qhorin hatched their plan to infiltrate the Wildling's all those years ago, to the woman he couldn't bring himself to kill. There were times he wondered what she would think of him had Ygritte survived that arrow. She probably would've laughed at some of the things he had done, but she would've supported him no matter what. Their love was one made for destruction right from the beginning. A brother of the Night's Watch and a Wildling woman kissed by fire. When he started to realise he felt something for her, he had wanted to use it to his advantage. But that had backfired when he had followed her into that cave.

It was the first of many times he had coupled with her. For someone who was so brash and borderline rude, she was incredibly sweet when bedding someone. He remembered how her gentle hands had caressed his toned chest and the way she had tangled her fingers into his raven curls. How her slightly chapped lips had met his own, and the way their bodies fit so perfectly together. He blinked a few times as he looked ahead, waiting on the signal for them to attack. 

He didn't think of her that much anymore, but on the rare occasions he did, it was like he was reliving the feeling of her being shot by Olly right in front of him again. It had gotten to the two of them alone, her having followed and cornered him with her bow notched with a Weirwood arrow. Yet when her pale blue eyes met his dark grey eyes, nothing mattered anymore. They'd been poised to kill one another, but neither could do it. That single moment where that realisation sunk in being destroyed as that arrowhead pierced her heart and the way he had caught her so she wouldn't fall from the battlement they were atop. 

"What are you brooding for now, Snow?"

He turned to face Davos before sighing deeply.

"Memories. Trying to distract myself from what is about to happen."

The older man placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard. In the couple of years that he had known the man, he had come to trust him greatly. See him as a father figure almost. And a part of Jon believed he thought of him the same. 

"At least if we do die today, we die with the thought that we tried to save Westeros from a crazy woman."

Out the corner of his eye, he spotted Robett's lips tighten into a thin line. Something he'd become well accustomed to ever since he'd arrived in Winterfell with Daenerys by his side. Just thinking of her tugged on his heart. He'd practically ignored her ever since he had told her when she had come looking for him. He loved her dearly, and he knew he should've heeded her words to not tell anyone until the war was won. But he had, and Sansa had broken her oath to him. An oath broken that was sworn in front of a Heart Tree was a punishable offense to the Northerners, but he wasn't going to punish his sister. 

What hurt most was he knew why she had done it. She'd done it because she knew Varys wanted to serve someone who had always said he would support the rightful heir. And he was the one that was easier to control, hence him switching allegiances. He'd watched as Drogon released his blazing inferno on the man, and he couldn't deny he had been incredibly satisfied and relieved. But this had been destroyed when he had tried to talk to Dany. She had ordered that no one was to let him past to speak to her, completely betrayed and heartbroken by what he had done. He had to make it up to her.

Who would've thought a trip to Dragonstone a little under two years before would lead to all of this. He remembered sparring with Robb when they were kids pretending to be Aemon the Dragonknight and the Rogue Prince Daemon. How the tables had turned. Now, Robb was dead. Butchered by his own bannerman who seized the opportunity to overthrow the Stark's like his ancestors had been trying to do for hundreds of years. And here he stood, an actual Targaryen. All his life he had believed himself to be a bastard, but he the complete opposite. A part of him wanted to see how those who had sneered at him all those years ago would take the news.

From Catelyn Tully-Stark, to Jeyne Poole, to Beth Cassel, to Alliser Thorne, dozens of people. The heir to the throne hidden in plain sight for all to see. An invisible sword held against the King's back for sixteen years.

A deafening roar caught his attention as they watched the giant black dragon fall from the clouds, using the brightness of the sun to obscure him from view. It truly was a magnificent sight to see, and he itched to be atop Rhaegal and soaring through the skies again. A part of him wondered what it would be like to fuck Daenerys atop one of them. But it couldn't happen, the green dragon was seriously injured and there were multiple Maester's attending to him on Dragonstone. He'd read plenty on the bonds of dragons and their riders, used to read stories to Arya when she was struggling to sleep when they were babes themselves. But experiencing a bond was so much more.

He took a deep breath as he watched the dragon fall again and again, targeting the scorpions and ballista that aligned the walls. Quietly waiting on the surprise attack to occur. When Daenerys gave them the signal by having Drogon release his flames in a specific pattern, he immediately ordered his men to prepare. Out of his peripheral vision, he spotted thousands of horses appearing alongside the Unsullied. Grey Worm and Brodo made their way to the front to join him, a last sign of unity before all hell breaks loose. The Dothraki warrior was speaking in his own language which he could make out a couple of words of, but not enough that he knew what he was really saying. 

With the thought in mind, they charged forward towards the northernmost gate to the city. Being met with a few thousand members of the Golden Company. The leader- Harry Strickland if he remembered correctly- was sitting atop his mountain of a stallion, with a coat brighter than the sun striking down from the sky above. His golden armour that had barely a single scratch on it and a cocky smile on his face. Jon had little to no experience in fighting Sellswords, but he was confident enough in his abilities and their plans. If all goes as they wish for it to, they won't spill any blood with them. Still, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and prepared as did his men. 

"Rather pathetic; a horse fucker, a eunuch, and a bastard punching above his weight. This will be easy."

Jon tightened his lips at this but Grey Worm did not hold his tongue which surprised him slightly.

"Unsullied do not fall. We fight with less against higher odds and walk away winners before."

A part of him wanted to snort at those words, he knew of the tales from his numerous history lessons with Maester Luwin. But he needed to remain composed. He is a leader, a warrior, the Warden of the North. For someone who didn't want titles, life sure loved to throw them at him. From King Crow as he was affectionately called by the Wildling's, to Lord Commander, to King in the North, and to an extent, King of Westeros. Once this was all over, he was going to speak to Dany, and he could only hope she would listen to his side of everything. And by some miracle, forgive him for betraying her trust and abandoning her when she needed him the most. It was only now he noticed Drogon had disappeared into the clouds again, but he could see his outline in the skyline getting closer to where they were. Just as Harry was about to order an attack, he appeared. Scales black as night with swirls of ruby red splattered all over him. It didn't take long before the wall collapsed to the blazing inferno. And a part of him smirked upon seeing the legendary company begin running away like toddlers escaping being yelled at by their parent. The sheer panic erupting allowing them to easily take out many of them, the dragon doing the rest, allowing them entry to the city.

The last time Jon had entered the city was when he had sailed from Dragonstone to parlay with Cersei to get more armies behind them for the great war. The difference was striking. Back then it was clear the city was on the brink of falling apart, yet now, those who were in the city looked to be on the brink of starvation. Understandable considering there was no one to hold the Reach and that was where most of the food came from in the continent. The resources Cersei was going to get had been destroyed by Daenerys on his request when her attack on Casterly Rock didn't go as planned. The cobbled streets were in disrepair, numerous holes which were not easy to miss, plus the stench of shit was worse than it had ever been. 

As they got further in, it struck him as odd that there had been no resistance from the inside yet. Daenerys had dealt with the Ironborn with Drogon, and she had also dealt with the Golden Company now. But there were tens of thousands of Lannister soldiers, where were they? His question was answered soon after as they walked into the street that led directly to the Red Keep. The castle up ahead standing strong and to this day, unconquered. The very spot where Aegon I had stepped foot on Westeros with the sister wives that was known- although people do beg to differ considering the painted table was commissioned years before they launched their invasion. He spotted Drogon land atop a large tower, with the silver haired Queen atop his back looking absolutely terrifying. 

In front of them now, were dozens of lines of Lannister men with a mixture of weapons. From swords to katanas to bows to crossbows. Something they didn't have as much diversity with. Despite this, he and his companions ordered their men forward. Despite hating killing people, Jon couldn't deny the adrenaline rush he always got as he faced against someone. But after facing off against multiple White Walkers, this was child play. They made quick work of them to about halfway before a sound echoed in their ears to a point that was borderline painful. His gaze glancing up to the tower it was coming from to see the bell swaying in plain view, signalling defeat. Just like that, all the Lannister men dropped their weapons and retreated to let them pass. 

But something seemed off to Jon, and it seemed Grey Worm spotted it too. This was too easy, way too easy. Cersei had never been someone to admit defeat, and she had proven time and time again she was not going to step away from that damnable throne inside the castle up ahead. So what was she playing at? He spotted Drogon take off towards the castle, Daenerys clearly thinking the same and heading for the gates. Before he could really think on it, he was running. Faster than he ever had, to the point his muscles were screaming at him. When he reached the innermost gate, a sinking feeling made its way into his gut. Behind the huge iron gate, there were tens of thousands of people holed up inside. Elderly, women with babes at their breasts, children clutching one another. But behind all that on a wooden podium stood Cersei, a crown atop her head and a welcoming smile on her face.

"My men may have surrendered, but I have not. Neither you nor the silver haired whore will kill innocents."

His gut began coiling tightly inside him, desperately looking around for something they could use. But clearly the woman ahead had thought of this. But then she did something that really angered him. She whistled loud and a monstrosity of a person walked out with multiple people bound in chains, and they were faces he recognised. One in particular, and from the anguished yell that came from Grey Worm, he recognised her too. Her normally bushy hair had lost its bounce, and her exposed skin was covered in bruising and scabs. Clearly having been tortured in her imprisonment. 

"Cersei, don't do this!"

The yell that escaped the crows startled Jon, and anger built up inside him as he spotted none other than Jaime Lannister pushing his way inside. How did he get in? That was something he would find out later. But his twin simply sneered at him before stepping down from the podium and with a swirl of Lannister red, had disappeared inside the castle again. Despite the other half of the pair being crippled, he was able to get through easily and ran after his sister. That was when he remembered something. Arya was in the castle. Grey Worm was about to order them storming the place but he cut him off.

"My sister is in there! We will not be storming the keep!"

"Missandei right there, I can't leave her."

More words were spoken between the pair of them, their man quickly falling into formation as they didn't know what to do. Then he heard something, a sound so foreign to him it caused him to stop his yelling at the Unsullied commander. He looked around and he spotted realisation dawn on a few of the men.

"Run!"

Who it was who said it, he didn't know, nor cold he pinpoint their location. But for a Northerner to order a retreat meant something bad was about to happen. He grabbed Grey Worm and pulled him away, quickly running from the Keep as that noise got louder and louder. Then he spotted the streets beginning to cave in on themselves which confused him, but this lasted only a second before a band that was so loud he could hear nothing afterwards. His body alongside their man being blasted back as a giant green flame enveloped the castle. When his body his the ground, he as sure he had broken a few ribs and possibly an arm too, but his gaze was transfixed. It got larger and larger, and then it engulfed the gardens. Moving to the podium, along the inner walls where all those people were holed up inside, to Merchant's Square, and to the outermost parts of Flea Bottom. When the ground began rumbling a second time, he didn't need to be told anything as he grabbed as many people as he could and running as far away from the explosion as he could get. 

When the second blast came, the building beside him came down as another green flame emerged. Understanding Cersei had formed a trap. Had expected for them to run this way and had stored some here as well. The sheer force of the blast forced him from his feet and for him to be thrown against a wall of a tower, his entire vision going black upon impact.


	2. Daenerys I

She wasn't sure what to expect. They had planned for hours in Dragonstone around the painted table. Everyone throwing ideas around, some being shot in the foot over how ridiculous they sounded. But the whole time they were doing so, her gaze kept glancing to Jon Snow. Well, not Jon Snow- Jaehaerys Targaryen. A nephew she never knew she had, a nephew she loved fiercely, and a nephew who had gone against her advice in trusting those closest to him.

It was common knowledge it took little to anger a dragon, but it wasn't common knowledge that it took a lot to hurt one. And this had hurt her massively. She recalled being in that room with him when they were both drunk on victory after their win against the dead and how she was literally on her knees begging him not to tell anyone until the war was over. He didn't see it, completely blinded by his love for his siblings, and Sansa had struck her chance to get rid of her. And yet, despite it all, she couldn't bring herself to hate him.

She herself was still reeling with the news, and she knew he must be worse than she was. He had arisen to King when he believed himself to be nothing more than the stain on the honourable Lord Eddard Stark's cloak- but he never had been. The panic that went through her when she went looking for him in the crypts that fateful day when the words fell from him, and the fact that she immediately thought of her being displaced in getting the throne disgusted her now she thought back on it.

Her whole life, there were three things she wanted most. The first was family. Something she never thought she would get to have again after Viserys died and Mirri placed the curse on her womb that prevented her from having children herself. Yet she had it now, and she had pushed him away. The second thing she wanted was a place to call home. Throughout her life in exile, Meereen felt the most like home to her. But no matter what, she was always going to be a Westerosi to them. Yet now she was in Westeros, she was just seen as a foreigner trying to take over their land. Therefore, she had begun to focus on the last thing she wanted, to restore her House as rulers of Westeros.

Daenerys breathed deeply as she watched from above, could hear the bells ringing loudly even from atop Drogon. Could see the Lannister soldiers throwing their weapons to the ground and allowing their armies to proceed to the castle. Was this all it took to take the Red Keep? For something to be taken in the span of a little more than a hour was almost laughable. But it did strike her that the streets were empty. Either the people had fled which was a distinct possibility, they had all died which again was a possibility because almost no food was coming in to the capital since the assassination of Olenna Tyrell by Jaime Lannister. The last was... her heart momentarily sped up in its beating pattern as realisation sunk in.

Please no, let her hunch be incorrect.

With the thought in mind, she ordered Drogon to fly straight for the castle. His scales completely dousing the city below in pitch-black darkness. She chanced a glance at those below and noticed they had stopped outside the city gates and weren't storming it as expected, and she could see why. From foot, it probably appeared to be perhaps fifty thousand people locked inside. But from above where she could see the entirety of the area, there must've been nearly a quarter of the population in the walls. Immediately, she had her dragon stop as she saw golden hair adorned with a crown below, but she couldn't hear her words from where she was. Next thing she did see were their armies looking to one another fearfully before scampering far away from the castle.

What was going on?

Her answer soon came as a giant blast of green flame swallowed the castle her ancestor had built, and how it was spreading outwards into the city. Tears sprung to her eyes as she watched, all those people, dead. Just like that. Watching people burn was not something new to her, she had literally done it a matter of minutes ago with the Golden Company and those atop the battlements surrounding the city. But this time she had no control over it at all, could only sit and watch in horrified fascination. Clearly those on the ground felt the explosion just before it occurred and that was why they were running. Her eyes trailing to where they were all heading. She took off again and followed them, but it wasn't meant to last as a second green flame erupted from the ground, causing the buildings surrounding it to collapse on hundreds of people. Then those who were just out of range of the onslaught being catapulted back full force from the strength of the blast. 

Now, she couldn't do anything. Feeling helpless was something Daenerys hated with a passion, but right now, there was nothing she could do. Drogon seemed to feel her inner turmoil as he flew to the outermost part of the city and she climbed off before running inside to try and find someone. How many people survived two wildfire explosions? Her heart speeding up as so many people she knew were in there. Grey Worm, Red Flea, Brodo, Jaime, Jon. Her eyes widened and immediately filled with tears as she ran faster than she ever had. Her thighs screaming for her to stop but she needed to find survivors. The only thing was she didn't know her way around the city, only saw the general layout from above but being afoot was something different.

Surprisingly, she came across a few people and despite them being terrified of her, they gave her directions to get to the outermost section of the capital where most of her men were situated. Where the blast had occurred. She'd heard of the wildfire beneath the city, the very stuff Jaime Lannister had killed her father over. At the time, a part of her didn't believe him when he said there was enough to destroy the entire city. Yet now, it became terrifyingly true. Much of it was used in the Battle of Blackwater, plenty had been used to destroy the Sept of Baelor, this was clearly the remnants. It wasn't long until a wall of green flame was in front of her, and she ran alongside it to where the collapsed buildings were.

When she got there, a choked sob left her mouth. Gods, how many did they lose? There were body parts everywhere, where those who had been closest to the blast had exploded themselves. She forced herself not to vomit at the site but it did make her feel extremely queasy and continued. It must've been a couple of hundred metres before she was no longer surrounded by body parts, but now she was met with blackened bodies. The stench of rot and death and shit creating a horrific scent. Now, she couldn't stop herself as she ran into a side street and promptly emptied the little that was in her stomach, wiping the remaining vomit on the back of her hand. The taste immediately caused her mouth to go sour but there was no time to think on that, she had to find someone. 

Luckily, it only took her a couple of minutes before she came across bodies that weren't blackened and were simply crushed or trapped. A slight cough from her right snapped her attention and she ran over immediately. She wasn't the strongest person around, but it seemed to be only a couple of bricks and a pole which shouldn't be too difficult. The man below immediately had her letting out a massive sigh.

"Goods gods, I thought everyone was dead!"

The smuggler-turned-Lord smiled a little at her but he made no move to stand up and she could see why. His leg was bent backwards at a horrific angle, clearly broken when part of the building collapsed on him.

"I've survived wildfire before, I can survive it again."

Despite the horror surrounding her, Daenerys couldn't hold back a laugh as his words registered. Typical Davos, finding something to joke about despite what had happened being the total opposite.

"Where's Jon?"

She asked the question timidly, her heart rate picking up again. Please, don't let him be gone. She'd literally gotten the last person in her family back and all they had been doing was push one another away for weeks now. She needed to apologise to him, and she needed to hear his thought process.

"I'm not sure, your Grace, but I know he was ahead of me. Kids faster than he looks."

Once again, a tiny snort left her as she made sure he was in as comfortable a position as she could get him in before running further down the street again. his words calmed her somewhat, knowing he had managed to avoid the main surge of the blast. Clearly this was the route the Northerner's took, some of those bodies she passed would've been Northerner's. But there was no time to think on that, she needed to find him, and now. More survivors appeared now and some were yelling at her for it, clearly looking for someone to blame over what had happened. A part of her wanted to turn around and yell at them immediately that she didn't do this and it was Cersei, but that could wait until later. Up ahead, she spotted a young man crouched over someone who from the debris surrounding them, had been crushed. They lifted their head towards her and relief coursed through her in a way she had never experienced.

"Torgo Nudho!"

He dropped his spear at this before running towards her, immediately wrapping his arms tight around her waist. Her eyes trailing to the body he had been crouched over and her gut dropping inside. Red Flea. 

"He push me away, took the hit."

Tears filled her again at this. It was known how fiercely loyal Unsullied were despite their violent reputation, and this proved it.

"Davos is back there, his leg has been snapped in half practically. Have you came across anyone else you know?"

Despite her not saying his name, her commander knew immediately who she was referring to.

"Brodo went that way, the Warden further ahead. I'm not sure how far he got though."

That was all she needed to hear before she took off again. From behind her, she could hear him running behind her to guard her back. They had expected resistance upon entering the city, but none of them could've expected that Cersei would blow so much of the capital up. Very much in the mindset of 'if I cannot have it, no one can'. The epitome of selfish, combined with her fathers cruel nature alongside it. To her right there was a tower that was left mostly untouched and a few metres ahead was where it all ended. This was the furthest they must've gotten.

"Jon!"

She yelled his name out in the vain hope he was nearby. Knowing him, he would've scampered back into the heart of it when the explosion finished to help those who had been hurt. It was just something he did, and something she loved dearly about the man. When no response came, she shot Grey Worm a look and he helped her in clearing some of the debris. Hoping he wasn't crushed in the onslaught. They must've been moving things for near on an hour and got no luck at all, but then she caught sight of a few raven curls. Despite a face not yet being visible, she knew it was him. With that, she walked over towards him and began clearing the debris. Not much had fallen on him, but there was a lot of blood surrounding his head. His face covered in fresh cuts when the few bricks fell atop him. Her breathing stopped for a few seconds as she quickly checked for a pulse, and a choked sob left her as she felt the soft thudding in his neck.

"Help me free him, he's alive."

She caught the glare he gave him, putting his actions to the back of her mind to ask another time before working to free the man. Once he was loose, Daenerys took him in and was surprised that he didn't appear to have a serious injury, but the blood pooling around his head was worrisome. Her hand reached to the back and she got her answer as the area was still bleeding but it wasn't heavy. He must've been thrown against something and been knocked unconscious. 

"Fetch a Maester, a healer, anyone who has experience with head wounds."

She could see on her commanders face he wanted to retort but he was conditioned to never disobey an order, and he took off further down the street to search for someone who could help. Looking at him now, she was catapulted back to that day on the ship when they had pulled him half dead off his horse suffering from terrible hypothermia. It was a miracle he didn't die then, no one should be able to survive being trapped under a frozen lake. Waiting patiently, hoping he would wake up. And she felt exactly the same then as she did now. Deep down, Daenerys always knew she felt an attraction to the man when he first stepped foot into the throne room at Dragonstone, but she had pushed it to the back of her mind. But she had no choice but to face her emotions when he was almost taken from her, how he had allowed himself to be a distraction so they could get out. 

Running footsteps echoed in her ear and she turned to see who it was, hoping it wasn't a Lannister man who had been ordered to finalise the job Cersei had started. Instead, she was met with a tiny person with a wiry frame. Despite the smoke now rising from the ground and bricks still falling from buildings around them, she could make out who it was.

"Arya!"

The younger snapped her head around to face her, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before noticing who she had in her arms. Just like that, all animosity disappeared from her as she rushed over.

"Jon!"

"Grey Worm is searching for a Maester or a healer. All I can tell you is that he's alive, just unconscious. I think he may have been one of those who were thrown against something during the blast. How did you get out? You were in the Keep!"

The younger was breathing heavily as she stared at her brother- well, cousin really- examining him for any further injuries she may have missed.

"Cersei cleared a pathway in the underground tunnels so she could escape. I know them decently as I used to explore them when my father brought me here all those years ago and I used them to get inside so I could find her. I saw Jaime running after her and they were arguing but they didn't see me. I managed to get a few people inside the Keep out just before..."

No further explanation was needed than this, and she felt like she had been punched in the gut. Jaime Lannister dead, great. That just makes it harder to get the Westerland's on her side. Right now, politics didn't matter.

"What actually happened because I was underground."

More footsteps were echoing in her ears now but she paid them no mind.

"Cersei played our greatest weakness against us. She knew neither me nor him was going to harm innocents if we could help it. She barricaded them all inside the walls. Gods, there must've been a quarter of the city there. I just saw our men running away just before the first blast occurred, a second not long after in the direction they were running. She set a trap to ensure maximum calamity."

The younger female closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

"So we're looking at there being a minimum of a quarter of a million casualties, in the span of a few minutes."

Daenerys could only nod at this before realising the wound on Jon's head was no longer bleeding. 

"You love him, don't you?"

This was what done it and soon tears were flowing down her face. This startled the younger massively as she never cried in front of people unless she physically could not contain her emotions.

"I do, fuck I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have immediately thought of that damnable throne when he told me-"

"So you know then?"

She nodded lightly at this.

"He was in the middle of telling me when the horns sounded confirming the Walkers were in sight. And I'm not the only one who does. Tyrion does, and Varys did hence why he's nothing but ash. He was trying to poison me so he could put him on the throne as he's easier to control."

Arya's face fell at that. No words needed to be spoken for her to understand the words. Jon had only told them, and Arya hadn't told anyone. Which meant the only people who could've told Tyrion and Varys were Samwell, Gilly, Bran, or Sansa. 

"I know what you're thinking, that I'm here to take over everything and oppress everyone, but that is the last thing I'm going to do. Sansa hates me because I won't allow independence because she believes it's deserved. Aye, it may be deserved, but if you saw the figures you wouldn't allow it either."

"Figures?"

The confused tone in the smaller woman's face was confirmation enough as she swore to herself over this man in her arms. Of bloody course Jon didn't confide in his sisters how perilously close the North was to famine.

"I didn't see them all, but lets just say that if independence was granted, the North would've been heading for famine in a matter of months. That is how little resources there are."

Just as she said this, she heard Grey Worm shouting from down the street, and she saw two people running her way with him. One an older man and the other a younger woman. 

"Please tell me- "

"Archmaester Marwyn, and this is Lorena, she's a healer."

Relief washed over her at this as she moved out the way so they could attend to Jon. She was barely breathing as they examined him, both nodding to themselves as if reading one another's thoughts. But neither of them had negative facial expressions and she took this as a good sign.

"He'll be okay, your Grace. His skull isn't fractured but he does have a few broken ribs so he won't be moving for a while. The wound is already clotting but it will need to be cleaned every couple of hours to prevent infection. I'd imagine he'll wake up within a few hours."


	3. Sansa I

She had always been someone who despised feeling helpless. Something that stemmed from her imprisonment within the Red Keep at the age of three and ten against her will after Joffrey had ordered her father's head be taken. Right up until that moment, she had been happy to be someone to just support others and have her head in the clouds- but she had a rude awakening. They all had a rude awakening when that happened. And to think it all stemmed from the simple fact that Cersei lied about the parentage of her children. This then being followed through when Jon Arryn began catching on as did Stannis Baratheon, and Peter Baelish struck.

Even now, just thinking of the man made her want to vomit. Yes, he had protected her and for that she would always be grateful, but she never would've been in that position were he not around. He sold her father out to the Gold Cloaks, he talked her mother into releasing Jaime Lannister against Robb's wishes, he talked her aunt Lysa into killing her husband and blaming the Lannister's. It was laughably ironic that someone from the most rural area of the Vale could cause so much havoc. 

Chaos is a ladder.

That was something he always told her, and at the time she didn't see it. But now, she could see it. The more chaos there is surrounding a situation, the more opportunities open up to level oneself up. It had worked well for him, and she was sure it worked for others. He must've gotten the consensus from somewhere to use said tactic to get what he wanted. Yet now, he was nothing but charred bones buried underground somewhere, and she stood as Lady of Winterfell. It had been six weeks since the army had left to travel south to engage in the war with Cersei and she had heard nothing from anyone. And this irked Sansa massively.

Despite this, she knew why she hadn't heard from Jon. Varys and Tyrion told him that it was her who broke her oath. And he did not take oath breaking easily, especially one made under a heart tree. Currently, she was reading over documents and responding to letters, trying to distract her mind from thinking she was useless. She'd never been a fighter, that had always been Arya hence why she had left. Winterfell felt emptier than ever, especially because everywhere she went she saw ghosts.

Whether that be her mother and father sitting at the high table, Robb and Jon sparring in the courtyard, Arya and Bran racing one another up the highest tree in the nearby Wolfswood, Rickon chasing them around, it all felt like a lifetime ago. So much has changed in the last eight years that the times it did hit her, she always stepped back and took a deep breath. There had once been a time where she was desperate to leave Winterfell, yet now she couldn't even think about leaving this place. This was home to her, had always been her home. 

"My Lady, there has been word."

Sansa snapped her head around to face Brienne, seeing her mask falling ever so slightly. And she knew why even if the older woman tried to hide it. She'd become incredibly analytical in the years she had been a hostage, and it didn't take a genius to see that Brienne loved Jaime. Yet he had left her to go back to his wretched twin sister in the end. Her heart sped up a little in excitement over finally hearing something before walking out of the room towards the council room. Even here, all she saw were ghosts. Jeyne Poole sitting near the back alongside Beth Cassel, Rodrik Cassel standing vigilant by the door, Old Nan seated alongside her great-grandson Hodor (or Willas- that still confused her). 

There were a few people here already, those who had opted to remain behind. Her eyes trained specifically on the few Glover banermen as they had abandoned them when they needed them the most because of what Jon had done. Even now, he hadn't explained why he had bent the knee because according to Bran, Daenerys had pledged to fight for the North before he did so. She hated being left in the dark. She looked around her and she spotted Bran alongside Lady Meera Reed- the last remaining heir to Greywater Watch, but what surprised her was the disturbed look on his face. Bran never had anything but a blank expression now, so what was going on?

"I heard we received news."

The person who had delivered the message handed the letter over to her and she could feel all eyes on her as she steadily opened it up, glad to see the direwolf seal which meant either Jon or Arya sent it. First, her eyes scanned it. Then they widened as she read it again. On the third read it felt like she was being catapulted across the Narrow Sea to somewhere in Essos. Her breathing deepened as she took in the words before looking to Bran, his disturbed expression now making perfect sense.

"My Lady?"

The words snapped her out of it as she put on her mask again before saying.

"We won. Cersei is dead."

Just like that, a collective sigh left everyone but a few put it together there was a lot more to it. Biting her lip hard to the point it felt like she was about to draw blood, she confirmed the full contents of the letter.

"She set a trap of wildfire. More than three quarters of the city perished. The Red Keep is gone, as is Merchant's Square, much of Flea Bottom, and the easternmost area of the city as a whole. They have no idea who is dead because there were hundreds of thousands of people incinerated on the spot, and thousands nothing but blackened bones and pieces strewn across the city."

No words were spoken at this. It was so quiet that they could've heard a pin drop. Sansa had always known Cersei to be unhinged but this- this was unimaginable. Of course, she had heard how she had blew up the Sept of Baelor to get rid of the Tyrell's and the Faith Militant, but at least that explosion had been contained.

"The King?"

Her stomach tightened a little at this. It was common knowledge now that Jon had given up his title and in doing so gave up the independence they'd been craving for years, but she wasn't going to correct him. The words melding together to be nothing but a blob of blue-black ink.

"He's alive. He managed to run fast enough to escape the immediate onslaught, but he was thrown against a tower from the sheer force. Numerous broken ribs but other than that, he is okay. Arya is also okay, she was down in the underground tunnels Maegor had commissioned when it started and was able to escape. Davos has a serious leg injury. The Queen managed to avoid it as she was atop her dragon when it happened. Jaime is dead-"

Just like that, she heard a gasp of emotion leave her sworn shield, and it didn't miss her ever present eyes that her hand landed on her lower stomach. Gods, please no. This was the last thing the woman needed. A few people noticeably stiffened when Bran referred to Daenerys as the Queen, not wanting to bow to a foreigner.

"Please leave me and my sister alone. Brienne, you stay too."

It was uncommon that her little brother took control. And in a way, she felt like she was getting him back again. Ever since he had become what he is, it was like she was living with an imposter that just looked like her brother. With a simple nod from Sansa, everyone left the room leaving just the four of them, Meera apparently refusing to leave his side. 

"Do you know the number of casualties, Bran?"

He looked away at this before facing her directly.

"If I had to guess, just shy of three hundred thousand."

Her hand raised to cover her mouth now, eyes widening. Reading it was one thing, but hearing that number said aloud was something else. That was a third of the entire population of the North.

"Jaime lied to you, Ser. He didn't go back to Cersei to be with her. He told you that so you wouldn't go after him. He went there to kill her. He strangled her as she was trying to escape as she cleared a pathway so she wouldn't be hurt."

Sansa swore under her breath at this. She'd heard it from Brienne of how he was not the same person he had been all those years ago but she had been blind to it. Hatred blinds a lot of people. Much to her shock, she saw tears beginning to form in her eyes before asking to be excused as she wanted to be alone. Meera left alongside her now, seemingly understanding that this needed to be a private talk between the siblings. 

"Jon and yourself will need to assign new Houses to a lot of the castles, Sansa. It's not good. If what I saw was correct and it wasn't warped by something; Glover's, Tallhart's, Umber's, Karstark's, and Cerwyn's are dead."

If she didn't feel sick before, she certainly did now. Five Houses, gone like that. She sat down at the high table as Bran wheeled himself to be in front of her as she pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a big thing when a House went extinct, but multiple? And these were just the Northern ones, who else were wiped out? 

"Sansa, get on the first ship from White Harbour to the capital. Jon is going to need you, and you need to explain your reasoning for telling Tyrion despite swearing not to tell a soul. He wasn't going to keep quiet on it forever, just until something had been figured out. Did you even think you may have caused another war? One that hadn't seen the like since 129AC?"

She stiffened at this, feeling the accusation in his tone. What did he mean by that? She wracked her brain for information, trying to recall her history lessons as it was a subject she hated with a passion. Her hands reached up to massage her temples as the penny dropped, eyes widening in shock as realisation kicked in for what she may have caused. By her telling Tyrion, and by consequence him telling Varys, she nearly caused another war. All out of spite too. Just like that, she heaved but nothing came up. 

"Luckily you didn't. But it was close. Daenerys executed Varys because he tried to poison her so she was out the way and he could put Jon on the throne. And I'm sure you know by now how much our brother detests titles. I've checked and she is with him currently alongside Arya, making sure he's guarded at all times."

There was no use in it now, and her barrier fell. Tears falling from her eyes at a rapid pace. Gods, what had she done? 

"Bran, do you know why he bent the knee?"

She watched as he tightened his lips which was all the confirmation she needed.

"Aye, I do. And it wasn't because of love, out of survival. There's something he said to Mance Rayder once- accused the man of his pride being bigger than helping his people. All I'll say is this. In the solar Jon took residence in after being crowned, there is a hatch in a wall. Inside there are notes he made. Read them."

With those words spoken, Bran left the room, leaving her completely alone with only her thoughts to occupy her. She had always been someone who thought everything through thoroughly, yet she had almost made a fatal mistake. There could've been thousands of more deaths on her hands if she hadn't done what she did. She caught what Bran said, of how Jon wasn't going to remain quiet on it forever. She'd been a selfish person when she was a girl, and she thought she had gotten over that, but it became blatantly obvious now this was not the case. 

It must've been devastating to him when Sam told him. She tried to imagine what he must've felt like. She'd experienced life as a bastard, when she was posing as Petyr's bastard niece Alayne in the Vale. But she had an advantage then, because she knew she was something else. Jon on the other hand had not had that luxury. He had always believed himself to be a bastard, and yet he was the bloody heir to the Iron Throne from the second he was born considering his actual siblings had been butchered solely because of their name. She wasn't sure how long she had sat there for, but she did notice the sun was beginning to set outside.

The first thing she did was swing by the kitchens to grab something to eat. She was't hungry, and she doubted she could keep any food down with everything that had been thrown her way today, but she wanted to distract herself. What had Jon kept from her? Did you bend the knee to save the North or because you love her? A question she had asked him when she had cornered him when he had returned after spending almost a year in Dragonstone negotiating with the dragon Queen. None of the details had been confirmed to her and this irked her massively, made her feel like he didn't trust her. 

It was something that had been the case for a while, and she only had herself to blame for that. She didn't tell him the Knights of the Vale were coming. She knew they weren't going to save Rickon, but she shouldn't have used him as a pawn like she had. And she had questioned him openly on numerous occasions despite him being King and her simply Wardeness. To most people, questioning a ruler was a death sentence, yet he held back because they were family, and pack stays together no matter what. As she made her way towards the room he had made his, she had managed to swallow half an apple, nerves bubbling up deep within. What was she about to find?

Sansa had been shocked when Jon had decided to take a meeting room as his solar instead of the Lord's one, said it reminded him too much of their father. Well, his uncle really. Nothing had changed in here, everything was neatly filed away and her eyes widened a little upon seeing the crown in the bookcase. She'd had it made for him but he had refused to wear it, always made excuses. But this warmed her a little that he wasn't hiding it. Remembering Bran's words, she walked to the area he said and she felt around. It took her a few minutes but she soon found a loose brick and she pulled it out, seeing a stack of notes behind it. With shaking hands, she reached in and pulled them out before placing them on the table and locking the door so no one could interrupt her. 

There weren't many, a couple dozen at most, but something was in these. His reasoning for giving up his title and giving the North back to the Seven Kingdoms. For a few moments, she just stared at them, pondering whether she wanted to do this or not. But eventually, she sat down and took the first in the pile. It took her a moment to understand his handwriting considering it was rather messy. She took her time to read them, eyes widening in shock as she did so. When she had finished, she placed her hands on the desk and breathed deeply. She needed to have this confirmed. The route to the Maester's quarters were strange to her because she never came this way, but she knew the layout of the castle decently considering she was born here. Maester Wolkan welcomed her into his solar and he quietly asked her why she was paying a visit. 

"What are the figures, Maester? I've come across letters from my brother saying they are scarily low, and I need to have this confirmed."

The man walked to the opposite side of the room and pulled a book down before opening it at the most recent page.

"Last count is this, my Lady."

He turned it around and slid it over the oak so she could see with her own eyes. Shock now setting in deep for her. It was worse than his letters, considerably lower. When she had done the accounting for the armies arriving in Winterfell, it sat at the back of her mind but she never thought on it. But seeing it in black and white...

"How long would this have lasted if we were to ration and if we were to carry on as we are?"

He thought into it for a few seconds before answering her.

"If we were to carry on as we are, three months- possibly four. If we were to ration, six months at a push."

Sansa reeled back at this, guilt ebbing deeper inside of her now. Gods Jon! Why had he not told her? They had promised to tell one another everything after that disagreement they had atop the battlements. Where she had said what he had done was something Joffrey would have done. She remembered that conversation well, and she remembered the hurt in his face. It had all been for nought anyway considering there are no more Umber's or Karstark's. 

"Alert the stable master to ready a horse for myself. I shall be riding for White Harbour and travelling to Kings Landing. I need to speak with my brother as soon as possible."


	4. Jaehaerys II

When he first woke up, his head was spinning. That was the first thing he noticed. The second thing he noticed was that his head ached, badly. Like he was experiencing the worst migraine in existence. The third thing he noticed was that the room was dark, every curtain was closed to block out light. The last thing he noticed was the fact he was lying in a bed in what appeared to be someone’s house. What?

Then it all came back to him.

From walking to the gates to be faced with the Golden Company, to seeing Daenerys take out the ballista and scorpions aligned along the walls before taking down the wall said sell sword company were guarding. To them killing those who remained and entering the city. Taking out roughly half the troops only to be stopped by seeing Cersei had set a trap of the worst kind. And finally to the explosion... 

His hand reached to the back of his head and he was surprised at feeling a bandage wrapped tightly around said body part and he could guess why. His fingertips coming back with crusts of dried blood. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was running from the heart of it only to be blasted into a tower when the second explosion occurred. He didn’t feel any pain at the time so it must’ve been an instantaneous thing. The room he was in was quite small, reminding him greatly of his childhood bedroom but it was more colourfully decorated. From white walls that was normal in the city, to a deep purple carpet, blackened curtains that had a laced pattern on the outside. A scent that was curiously alike cinnamon wafting through the air. The sound of something dropping caught his attention and he snapped his head around, immediately groaning in pain as a searing pain wracked through his head.

“He’s awake!”

Now, his eyes widened. He knew that voice. Relief washed over him in a way he had never experienced before. Arya had gotten out. How she did he would find out later. He could hear running footsteps from outside and soon three people walked in, the smallest immediately climbing onto the bed and tucking herself into his side like she done when she had nightmares as a child. 

“What?”

He moved to sit up but the older male gently placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down again.

“You took a nasty hit, your Grace. We can’t have any sharp movements from you as that will make it worse. Lorena, get the herb mixture I brought with me, it will help with the pain.”

The other woman now left the room with a silent nod. Jon opened his mouth to say something about the honourifics he had been given there but his mouth was incredibly dry. How long had he been out? It seemed Arya knew what he was thinking as she answered.

“It’s been four days. Marwyn gave you milk of the poppy so you’d be able to sleep through that head wound healing. Luckily you didn’t break any bones apart from a few ribs so don’t even attempt to move.”

At the last word, she pointed her index finger against his face which had him chuckling deeply before tentatively wrapping an arm tightly around her to pull her in. It wasn’t long until Lorena was back in the room carrying a small cup with some liquid in it. She passed it over to Marwyn who reached over to the younger male. He could see the texture of it, being akin to tar, and it smelled something vile. But clearly his sister trusted them and he trusted his sister, so he gulped it down quickly before screwing his face in disgust. The sour taste lingering on his tongue the way vomit does.

“It’s a bit stronger than milk of the poppy but it doesn’t cause you to sleep. It’ll take a few minutes for it to kick in. You won’t feel any pain until the next dosage, my King.”

“I’m not King.”

Arya snorted at this, clearly finding this amusing. Or perhaps she was finding the silliest things funny to distract herself. The other two people had small smiles adorning their faces before leaving the room. 

“How did you?”

“I was down in the tunnels. I overheard Jaime trying to convince Cersei not to do it. I managed to get a few people from inside the Keep and get them out in the tunnels I knew about from running wild all those years ago. It was only a handful but-“

She didn’t need to continue as he knew what she was about to say. A handful is better than none. Something he knew as he had managed to save five thousand Wildlings. He still felt like a failure for that now even though it was nearing three years ago.

“I sent a raven to Sansa to tell her the outcome, although I don’t doubt Bran hasn’t already told them.”

His body stiffened as he heard her name, her betrayal cutting deep within him. He had stood with the three of them and she had looked him directly in the eye and swore under a heart tree she wouldn’t tell anyone. Yet only hours later Tyrion knew? And then Tyrion had told Varys who began working to displace Daenerys in favour of him. Despite all knowing he wanted nothing to do with that damnable chair.

“I haven’t gotten a response yet, I sent it the day after it happened so they probably received it yesterday. The Queen is wandering the streets searching for survivors in the rubble, but it’s not good.”

He sighed deeply at this but then something clicked for him as he turned to face his little sister. Well, technically cousin, but she would always be his baby sister no matter what. She was willingly calling Dany Queen. She had before, but she had done so with a bite in her tone that was obvious to him as he knew it well. She used said tone whenever she was talking about Septa Mordane when she was a child.

“Is- is she okay?”

The words came out his mouth hesitantly, not wanting to hear her answer.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?”

Now, Arya snorted again in humour as he snapped his head around, amazed there was no pain when he did so. Whatever was in that disgusting liquid Marwyn concocted clearly working wonders for the pain. Her hair was completely down, not a single one of her iconic braids in the pale silver strands. Her face covered in dust and surface wounds, wearing breeches and a loose top which was so weird to see. She always wore dresses unless she was riding Drogon and even then it was a mixture between breeches and dresses to make it easier to do so. She walked over to him and smacked his shoulder hard.

“Don’t do that again, you scared me! I thought you were gone, Jon. And we didn’t get to talk about- well.”

Nothing else needed to be said regarding this, he knew what she was going to say. Arya gagged now at their interplay before promptly leaving the room, audibly locking the door behind her. Steadily, he moved to sit up, remembering he had broken a few ribs. He’d had broken ribs before but it was so alien to him because he couldn’t feel any pain whatsoever.

“What did that Marwyn give me? And who is he?”

“He said something about nectar from a rare flower you can only get in Leng. Apparently it tricks the body into feeling no pain whatsoever which is clearly the case. Although it does stink. He’s and Archmaester.”

A short laugh left him, remembering the vile scent of the stuff, the taste still lingering on his tongue now. Clearly, she thought this through as she handed him a peach which he wasted no time in biting into, savouring the sweet treat. The juices were soon stuck in his beard and he was sure bits of flesh were there too, but right now he didn’t care about that. 

“I’m sorry-“

“There’s nothing to be sorry for-“

He shot her a look at this which caused her to look down a little.

“Let me talk, okay?”

He watched as she bit her bottom lip hard, something that made him want to kiss her, but this was long overdue. They’ve been pushing one another away for weeks and they were only hurting one another more.

“I should’ve headed your advice and not told anyone until the war was over where we could work something out peacefully. But when you looked me in the eye in the crypts and began talking about the throne, a part of me thought you were becoming blinded by power. I thought you were trying to manipulate me into being submissive to keep the North in check. So when you asked me not to tell anyone, that was how I took it, Dany. I love my siblings and I trust them with every bone in my body. We were raised with the motto of the pack always sticks together no matter what, and I ran off this, believing they wouldn’t betray my trust. So I told them, and they all swore to keep quiet on it until we worked something out. Then when we arrived on Dragonstone and Varys called me by that name- I knew. I cornered Tyrion and he confirmed it. Then the eunuch tried to poison you- and it was all because I didn’t listen to you.”

He cut off after this and took a deep breath, feeling his heart hammering away inside at his words. Jon had never been a man of words unless when he needed to be, and right now was one of those times. By the time he had finished, he spotted she had a few tears inside her eyes, making the violet colour stand out even more.

“No, you weren’t at fault. I was at fault too.”

He was about to argue but she shot him a glare that had him closing his mouth, readying himself to be lectured like he was a disobedient child.

“Jon, I never had a good experience with family. I’ve told you of how my brother was cruel to me and that I was nothing but a bargaining chip for him in the end. But I do remember before he became what he did, when he would allow himself to go without food for days so I could eat. Of how he somehow shielded me from who knows how many assassins. I had long come to accept that I would never experience that again but then you came along. Neither of us knew yet, but something about you drew me in, even when you stood in that room staring me in the eye and using an analogy I was a spoiled child.”

Both let out a small laugh at this. That seemed so long ago now, yet it had been perhaps a year and a half ago at most.

“I don’t know when I realised I cared for you exactly, but it hit me when your horse came back with you barely breathing. Then when they took your frozen clothing off and I saw those scars. It terrified me knowing that I almost never got to meet you. And when you were recovering and you began telling me about Aemon and how he was fond of me and took you under his wing as did Jorah’s father, it let me see there was more to family than using one another. And when I went looking for you and found you in front of her statue and you told me, I’ve never been so happy. I didn’t show it because I was too shocked, but I really was. I’d always wanted family and I had long come to accept I wouldn’t have one again so I focused on that damnable throne which is what I done in that moment.

“Then after we won and you came into the room we were sharing not so secretly. And we laughed and joked about the fact we had won but then you pushed me away. I thought I was losing you, and I reverted to what I wanted to do secondly again. Then you telling me you wanted to tell your sisters. We should’ve discussed something there but we were both still reeling from it and we’re both stubborn as mules. I didn’t even realise Varys was poisoning me at first. It wasn’t until one of the servants was overheard talking about how she was tasked to put some herb into my food that it clicked. You arrived two days after that happened and we stupidly ignored one another which allowed them to strike-“

She cut off after this and he realised with a start that she was full on sobbing now. He’d seen her cry twice. The first being when she stayed behind to make sure he got out when they were in that boat heading to Dragonstone. The second being when she was practically on her knees begging him not to tell Sansa and Arya until after the war. 

“Dany, you weren’t at fault-“

“Yes I was. We both were, and we need to accept that.”

No words were spoken between the two of them after this, comfortable silence enveloping them. Hesitantly, Daenerys climbed onto the bed and tucked herself into his side, resting her head against his chest and sighing as she heard his heart beating.

“Does it disgust you? That we’re-“

She didn’t need to continue, as he knew what she was saying. He thought on it for a few minutes before shaking his head.

“No, it doesn’t. Incest isn’t as uncommon as you think in Westeros, Dany. My grandparents on my Stark side were cousins, and their grandparents- perhaps great grandparents I can’t remember now- were uncles and nieces. Sansa was named after one of them. Then you’ve got Tyrion’s parents being cousins too. It’s really only brother-sister couplings that are frowned on, that and parent-child couplings.”

She gagged at the second one, remembering how he had told her Gilly was both her fathers wife and daughter, and that her son was technically her brother too. To her, brother-sister wasn’t that big of a deal considering her own parents had been so, as had her grandparents. Alongside dozens of her ancestors going back thousands of years. By now, he was facing her, taking a strand of silver locks and twirling it around his finger. Steadily, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, her mewling in appreciation at the gentle touch. 

“We need to discuss what happens now, we’ve been putting it off enough as is.”

She froze for a moment before sitting beside him to look at him.

“We’re in a mess, Daenerys. I bent to save the North, but they swore to me and not to you. You’ve worked for years to get to where you are yet technically you’re second in line, which leaves you open for displacement-“

“There is one way. I’ve been talking to Davos over the last few days. Apparently he brought it up to Tyrion months ago but he never told me about it. I’ve also had tens of thousands swear to me. The only way we don’t get into another situation is if you take the North and I take the six alongside Dorne and to an extent the Iron Islands. But your Hand made a good suggestion. If we were to combine, there would be no need for differing factions. We don’t need another repeat of Greens and Blacks, especially now with so many casualties.”

His eyebrows furrowed as her words sank in, wondering what she meant. Surprise bubbled up in him that she was considering allowing the North to secede from the other Kingdoms, but he did show her the figures. Clearly thinking of some way for there to be a trade agreement. It took a few moments for the second to sink in, and when it did, he looked at her with wide eyes.

“Dany-“

“It’s the best way, Jae- shit.”

He snorted a little at the use of the nickname, she had never called him that before. 

“Jae?”

He watched as her cheeks began to rapidly redden, quickly overshadowing the cuts and bruises on her face.

“I just thought since your technical name is Jaehaerys, it’s kind of a mixture of both-“

She was cut off when he clasped her hand tightly in reassurance it was okay. Although it was amusing he had the infamous Dragon Queen all flustered like this. He wondered who else could get her to be like this. He knew her first two husbands didn’t although she did grow to love Drogo deeply by the end. 

“You mean solidifying by marriage? Combining both claims so no one can use it against us in the future for their own ambitions?”

Hesitantly, she nodded.

“I know you hate titles, but whether you like it or not, you’re a damn good leader. And dozens saw this in you when you took back Winterfell despite the odds being strongly against you-“

“That was Sansa’s idea-“

“But you followed through with it. She was the spark but it was you who done it. You don’t see it because you’re way too humble, but you’re a great King, Jon. Aye, the Northerners weren’t pleased by you bending to me but I’d guarantee if they knew your whole reasoning, they would accept it. They wouldn’t be happy with it, that I can tell, but they wouldn’t spit on you like they have been since you done so. Truthfully, I don’t think I can do this without you. I’ve got a bad temper as you know but you know how to calm me down before I do anything, and you make me laugh. Laugh in a way I haven’t since I was a little girl.”

He cut her off as he pulled her in for a deep kiss, her not rejecting it at all. Her fingers tangling into his raven coloured locks and his tightening around her slender waist and pulling her in as far as he could. Like usual, her lips tasted of a myriad of fruits and something spicy he couldn’t put his finger on. A gentle coughing caused them to break apart and both blushed deeply upon seeing Arya stood there with a certain blacksmith beside her. 

“I’m guessing you two have made up?”

Arya quirked an eyebrow up at them as Gendry jokingly shoved her, and it didn’t miss the others eyes the way the blue of his brightened substantially as he done so. Oh, he was going to have fun with this. 

“We’ve still got a lot to discuss, but we got most of it out.”

“And?”

Now, Gendry was mortified by her lack of courtesy but she paid him no mind. Jon turned to Daenerys and both nodded before facing the young female.

“We’ve got a wedding to plan.”


	5. Arya I

Even now, a week after it had happened, ash was still falling from the sky and covering the ground with a pale grey that to someone who had never seen snow before, would think it was that. But she had grown up with snow surrounding her, knew the difference. How every snowflake was different and the second they came into contact with skin they melted into nothing. The tingling feeling that came from being out in it too long and exposed skin turning a pale pink in the process. To the feeling of fingers going numb from throwing snowballs and building snowmen and making snow angels. 

It seemed like a lifetime ago, like it were a dream she was trying to remember from when she was a child. But this was real, all too real.

The scent of the capital had always been horrific, Arya remembered gagging the first time they stepped within the walls with their father. She wasn’t used to the smell of shit as Winterfell had adequate plumbing, but clearly the city did not. In the streets there were sometimes literal rivers of faeces and she had seen the locals jumping over it like it were simply puddles from the rain. But now, she would take that scent over the current one in a heartbeat.

The scent of death was nothing new to her, had almost gotten used to it. But death, shit, and burning was a combination she never thought she would experience at once. It had gotten to the point that she had begun walking around with a peg on her nose despite it being extremely uncomfortable which got her more than a few confused looks as she passed people. Today was the first day no ash had fallen from the sky, and they took this as a sign that it was okay to begin removing the rubble. They had been looking for survivors for a few days but it was difficult to do so as they could barely see from the amount that was falling. 

She had argued with Jon that morning. He had wanted to help but she had been stern he was not to move until Marwyn gave him the all clear with his seven broken ribs. She’s gotten her own fair share of injuries beforehand but she had yet to experience that sensation. At least he wasn’t in pain because the Archmaester had given him some vile concoction that miraculously tricked the body into thinking it was not in any pain. The argument was won when Daenerys walked into the room and kissed him deeply, and Arya took the opportunity to leave before he could notice. 

They were starting from the outermost areas that were affected first, knowing this would be where they would be most likely to find survivors. A mandate being ordered for those who were not within the path of the destruction to leave the city, the Queen sending communication to Dragonstone to get as many people there as possible. There had been a lot of confusion and hundreds of curses thrown their way, but the order was carried out. The less people there are, the more space they have. 

“My Lady, a raven has arrived.”

She snapped her head around at this to be met with someone she did not recognise. Not bothering to correct him by saying she wasn’t a Lady, that was Sansa. Taking the scroll from him and unravelling it, relief coursed through her as she recognised her sisters cursive handwriting. It was something she had always been jealous of. Having an uncommon dominant hand made it difficult for her to write neatly, and she had heard about it so many times she had lost count when she was around eight name-days. Once the relief passed though, a small amount of anger surged within her. Two days prior she had confronted her brother regarding the shortage of supplies Daenerys had hinted at when they found him unconscious. He had danced around her at first but finally he gave her an answer.

To think the North had gotten to a point of being on the brink of famine was astonishing to her. There had always been plenty of stock so where had it all gone? Had the Bolton’s destroyed much of it when they burned the Keep down? Had there been a dodgy trade deal made? Or had it just gotten too cold that nothing was growing and they were just getting lower as the days went on? She shook her head before meeting with everyone else who was going to be helping clear the rubble, there being a little more than one hundred. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. By now, ravens were flying to the other Kingdom’s and the other Houses of what had happened and to send as many people as they could spare to help out. This was going to take weeks, possibly even months. The damage was that bad.

On the first day, they found one-thousand-four-hundred and twenty-three survivors. This brought their spirits up until the death toll was given, being almost five times that. As they were going, they were clearing bricks and debris, putting them into side streets and creating a single pathway so all survivors went to the same place. Leading to the westernmost gate where they would travel to the coastline where ships were waiting to take them to the nearby island. 

On the second day, they had only found a couple of hundred survivors. Most of which were crushed under falling buildings. Whether that be from caved heads, from severed legs, to just being trapped under something at an angle they meant they could not breathe. Death was nothing new to her, he was the only god she was certain existed. She’d seen thousands of dead people in the House of Black and White, had done her fair share of killings too, but even this was getting to her. And if it was getting to her, she dreaded how Sansa would react. Hence she was working harder than she ever had so her sister saw as little as possible. 

By the third day, her hands were blistered open and were bleeding badly, and her legs ached from heaving heavy bricks away to search for survivors. The only thing that wasn’t causing her to stop was the fact Gendry was helping her out. She was confused what she felt for the man. There were times she despised him, times where she wanted to jump into his arms, and times where she saw him like an older brother. It certainly didn’t help as she remembered the one night they shared in Winterfell the night before the dead arrived. She’d heard people talking about it since she was young (well, mostly Theon), and she wanted to experience it before she died.

At first, she had been nervous. Which was something she almost never felt. At first, it had hurt badly, but she remembered just how careful he was with her to have her be comfortable. They coupled three times that night before the dreaded horns echoed through the night. Arya blinked a few times as the city came into focus again, picking up more bricks as she went. 

It was on the fourth day that Daenerys brought Drogon into it as they were getting to fully collapsed towers now. Instead of lugging around massive bricks, she’d had the dragon pick them up in his claws and take them to the side streets which were rapidly filling up. A lot of people were terrified of the beast, but she had been fascinated by it. When she had first seen him and his brother flying above Winterfell when they had arrived. To seeing the silver-haired woman perched atop his back riding him like a horse. Then seeing Jon doing the same with the other one. She’d asked about it, and she had confirmed he had received a few hits from scorpions when Euron attacked them on the way back to her ancestral seat after the Great War but he was alive. 

Their pattern occurred daily as they went, getting steadily closer to where the Red Keep once stood. It was the tenth day that they were dealt with their worst hit- when no survivors had been found in the rubble. They found some the following day but it wasn’t even past the three-digit region. The following three days after this they also found no survivors. Just nothing but blackened bodies and others covered in severe burns. Every fallen person they came across, they were putting them into makeshift carts which were taking them to the outskirts of the city. Some were recognised and others were not. Numerous Maester’s had arrived now as had dozens of healers, but there wasn’t much use for them now. 

It felt like years before they finally made it to the outer gates of the Red Keep, where there was almost no damage as everything was incinerated on the spot from the sheer heat of the wildfire. She’d heard from Davos who had been taken to Lorena’s house where Jon was, of how it burned hotter than regular flame and not even water could put it out. All that could be done was wait for it to burn out itself. By now, her blisters had burst and numerous bunions had formed on her skin. Scars healing and leaving ugly marks all over her skin. Muscles no longer aching as she was now used to the hard grafting they had been doing. 

They had collectively agreed to do an account of survivors first before heading for what little remained of the red castle. A little more than nine thousand. And it wasn’t guaranteed they would all survive as there had been plenty of serious injuries. And there had been nearing one hundred thousand dead. This combined with the quarter of a million who were incinerated as they were right atop the explosion had a dizzying number of casualties. She’d heard from Jon often of how he had watched one hundred thousand being slaughtered and being unable to help, only managing to save a handful, and how it haunted him even to this day. Something Arya was now experiencing herself. There had been more than a few occasions where she had to run away and promptly wretched the little food she had consumed it was that bad. 

It now marked three weeks since the explosion had occurred before they finally began heading towards the Keep. But they were stopped as the Queen appeared with someone with a slight limp beside her. Arya smiled brightly before dropping the brick she was currently holding and running towards her brother. This was the first time he had been out of bed since it had happened.

“Marwyn has given him the all clear to be here, but he can’t do much. He was able to bind his ribs a few days ago finally so they’ve started to heal.”

Relief washed through her at this before hesitantly giving him a hug, being mindful of the fact he was still very much injured. She felt him toss her hair which she normally hated with a passion but right now, it was welcoming to her. Especially when he leaned down and whispered ‘good to see you baby sister’ in her ear. She was anything but a baby now, but it warmed her to the core he still called her that. Especially after going so many years wondering if she would ever hear it again. Then a voice broke their moment which caused her blood to momentarily boil, looking down to see the dwarf of Casterly Rock.

“Jon I-“

“Save it Tyrion. Once we’ve gotten all survivors free we can talk.”

He opened his mouth to retort but was shut down with all three giving him a furious glare over what he had done. For someone who was as smart as he is, he should’ve figured out they were both reeling with the information that had been bestowed upon them and they needed time to come to terms with it. And he had sped it up by telling Varys after being told by fucking Sansa. At least her sister had been honest by confirming that in the raven she had sent. If the seas were good, she would be here in a matter of days. And she wasn’t coming alone. Samwell and Gilly were too, and when she had told Jon he had smiled brightly. 

“My betrothed is correct. We shall search what little remains of the Red Keep right now although I doubt we will even find a body considering the wildfire practically swallowed the area up, and then we will head to the outskirts and arrange for everyone sheltering on Dragonstone to come here to see if we can verify any of the bodies. After that, we will speak.”

Arya watched as Tyrion’s eyes widened when she said betrothed. Even to her it was strange to see. She knew they had been involved romantically, but she could never see Jon getting married. But she was happy for him. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her older brother. The dwarf walked away at this as they began to clear the bricks again. There were very few of them, and she gagged upon seeing a few human bones too. It only took them two hours to clear the rubble, and once the few red bricks were away, she saw the devastation. Underneath it was now a massive caved in section of ground. And she could see one of the many tunnels she knew about from her time exploring them when she was a little girl chasing cats on Syrio’s request.

They hadn’t found any bodies other than a few bones above ground, so the only way they were going to find any was if they went into the tunnels. But now, they weren’t secure at all, which would make it difficult for them to search. That was until someone suggested they use the bricks to fortify as they went which everyone settled with. Arya led them down to the coastline where the exit she had used lay as that had been mostly untouched. It being the one beside where Cersei and Jaime had been. They got perhaps one hundred metres in before they came to an intersection which took them the remainder of the day, needing to barricade as much of it off so the ground above didn’t bury them alive too. Tyrion asked her hesitantly what one his siblings were in and she pointed towards it, him taking a few men with him considering it had barely been touched. 

Eventually, they called it a day, and rested as well as they could. However, this was difficult as the memory of what had happened right here not even a month ago was still burned deep into their brains. When they woke up, they were met with dozens of ships, all emblazoned with grapes, suns and spears, and crowned stags. Them clearly getting the ravens and sending people to help. When they greeted them, everyone who stepped off the ships were left floored as they took in the destruction. Clearly they had thought it wasn’t as bad as this. Arya recognised none of them but they were glad for the help nonetheless. With hundreds more now helping, it took them only two days to clear the tunnels she knew about but then it hit her she hadn’t seen Tyrion since he went into the one his siblings were in.

A few people noticed the face she made as they questioned her, and when she spoke the words she spotted understanding dawn on their faces. They all made their way inside and were met with numerous red bricks that had fallen through the ground where a small hole had been cleared near the top. They were much farther in than this, she remembered that much. Jon had to remain behind due to his injuries, Daenerys opting to remain with him. But she climbed the rocks as easy as she climbed the trees in the Wolfswood. Once she slipped through, she spotted a slope and she ran down it quickly, remembering her training in Braavos. The air was thick with the scent of rot, sea salt, sulphur, and burning, but she carried on. Were they really this far in? Was this how far she had ran when she overheard what Cersei was planning just before she did what she done? 

She got her answer soon enough as she turned the corner to be met with Tyrion crouched over a specific area, anguished yells coming from him as the few he had taken with him pulled him away from something. They didn’t see her as they moved to the exit only a couple of hundred feet away which hadn’t collapsed in from what she could see, and she walked over to where he was. When she caught sight of it, she bit her lip hard. Despite knowing that they had not survived, seeing them confirmed it. Cersei’s face was a sickly blue in colour, a sign of a lack of air. And she could see why that was as her twins golden hand was against her neck, and his remaining one pushing it hard against said area. His face had been crushed in from the bricks just like his sisters, but it was clear how each had died.

Cersei strangled by her twin, and Jaime from hundreds of bricks falling on top of him. 

She swallowed loudly, fully expecting relief to hit her that her list was now complete after so many years, but it never came. With that, she turned and made her way back to the group. When they saw her, they all silently asked the question.

“They’re both dead. The men are taking Tyrion outside as it seemed like he didn’t want to leave. She was strangled, the twin crushed.”

Silence overcame them all at this, some looking to one another incredulously. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who strangled Cersei considering there was only one other person with her. She spotted a couple of the remaining Lannister men who had survived especially surprised. For two people who always said they were meant to be together in all ways because they came into the world together, it was shocking that one killed the other in the end. Perhaps he had done it to end her suffering as numerous bricks were covering her as well and her chest had been caved in, perhaps he had done it to try and stop the order. That was something they would need to ask Bran when they next see him.


	6. Sansa II

Sansa had been on a boat a mere once in her life. And it was a time where she was deliriously happy but also downright terrified. When Ser Dontos Holland had grabbed her just after Joffrey was poisoned and smuggling her to Petyr Baelish on the docks who proceeded to take her to the Eyrie. The sheer happiness that she was finally out of that wretched city she had been a captive in for years, where she had been beaten and tortured and used as a bargaining chip. When she left there, she vowed she would never step foot there again, and she would never allow herself to be used like that again.

Yet here she was, on her way down to the capital. She had fully intended to ride to White Harbour but when Samwell and Gilly stated they wanted to come, it made more sense to have a wheelhouse. She hadn't spoken to the man much, nor his partner, but she had no choice but to do so here. To say she was reeling with some of the things she had been told was putting it lightly. To think this man in front of her who looked like he struggled to walk with how fat he was, was the first person in thousands of years to knowingly kill a White Walker? And he had done it because it was coming after Gilly's son?

People will do stupidly courageous things for someone they care for, something she knew. Back when she had still been infatuated with Joffrey and lied to protect him when he had literally held a sword against Arya's neck made her want to vomit on the spot. Now that she looks back on it, she wondered why she had not awoken right then, especially when Lady had been killed on Cersei's orders. It took them twelve days to arrive in White Harbour and were greeted by Wyman and his granddaughter Wylla- her sea green hair standing out strongly amongst everyone surrounding them. They had been granted a large room each and plenty of food but this made her feel queasy. How many people were still having feasts and were unaware of how perilously close to collapse they had been?

They remained for two days before finally making their way to the ship that was heading towards the capital, everyone on board having a somber expression adorning their faces. News was rapidly spreading of the calamity that had happened. These people on board probably considered it their home, yet they were going back to ruins. According to Bran, not all of it had been destroyed, but nearly half of it was. What were they going to do? They would need to rebuild the city from the ground, but the crown is massively in debt to both the Lannister's and the Iron Bank. Taxes would probably be risen for a few years until there was enough to fund the reconstruction. In the meantime there was finding somewhere for everyone to live until their homes and shops were in a state that was useable again.

It was something she was going to need to speak to Jon about, alongside Daenerys. Just thinking of her name caused her insides to boil, remembering when she had cornered her one day and stated she knew the look of someone who had been tortured repeatedly. She'd noticed a similar expression on the silver-haired woman's face, but she had stormed off in pure insult she had just said it to her face. She also remembered how she had turned her thoughts against her when they were talking regarding Jon abdicating, of how if anynone manipulated someone it was him manipulating her. 

But now, she had to face her fears and talk to her. Not as politician to politician. Not as Lady to Queen. But as Sansa to Daenerys- or Dany as Jon called her. She was not looking forward to that conversation as deep down, she knew her brother was not stupid. He would have figured out by now that it was her who broke her oath, something which almost plunged the continent into another war mere moments after the current one was won. Thousands of more deaths would've been laid at her feet and only because she knew the dragon Queen was not allowing independence? At the time, she had believed it to be a power ploy of the much shorter woman, but now that she had seen the figures- she was beginning to doubt that now. 

She had been granted the largest cabin on their journey down which she was glad for, as it gave her time to herself to reflect on everything that had happened. She knew Jon wasn't going to forgive her for a long time, and she doubted Daenerys would. Arya probably would but she wouldn't speak to her for days- possibly even weeks. Sansa hated feeling lonely, which was why she had tried to keep her family close by her, but everyone seemed to be pulling away. There was no telling if Varys managed to tell anyone before he was executed after trying to poison the woman he had sworn to serve. If people knew, it was going to spread like currents ripping through the water, which will tie Jon into southern politics. He handled northern ones decently, but the south was a whole other beast and it swallowed hundreds up and chewed them out in a worse position they were to begin with.

There was no telling what Arya was going to do. She had told her that Winterfell was just a memory to her and it didn't feel like home to her anymore. And when she had asked what she considered home, her little sister had not replied. Then there was Bran being the Three Eyed Raven. Sansa longed to be the kids they once were playing pranks on one another and blaming someone else. Whether that be Robb blaming Theon, Bran blaming Rickon, Arya and Jon blaming one another, she didn't care. But Robb was gone, as was her father, and her mother. Rickon had been shot down a mere few metres from Jon as he was foolishly trying to rescue him from Ramsay's clutches and completely ignoring her words. Her aunt was dead, her grandparents on both sides, even the Blackfish. 

Tears welled in her eyes as she recalled them all and she wiped them away on the back of her hand before doing quick calculations on how much the North needed and how much it was going to cost. But there was a small hitch, she had never been good with numbers. It had always been Robb and Arya who were best at them, and Jon wasn't far behind with his knowledge on it. After a few hours, she put the quill down and sighed deeply. Does she do this? Asking for help was something she hated with a passion, but she needed to have a figure to hand to Daenerys when she finally arrived in Kings Landing.

Her navy dress swirled around her feet as she made her way out of her cabin and timidly knocked on Samwell and Gilly's. The pair had opted to leave little Sam in Winterfell so he wouldn't witness the scale of the destruction. The female opened it and gave her a weird look, her slightly bucked teeth making her look younger than she was.

"May I speak to Samwell? It's to do with getting figures of stock."

Gilly nodded before promptly throwing something at who she realised was Sam, almost laughing as she heard a high pitched yell. Clearly he had been asleep.

"I apologise my Lady for him, he does not handle ships well."

When he came into her line of vision, she realised what the other female meant. He looked like he had been puking non stop for hours. His face had a horrible greenish hue to it and he was ashen too. Despite this, he greeted her cheerily like he always did before inviting her inside. Sansa noticed with a bit of surprise they had a desk, but they had a much smaller bed than she did so she couldn't complain with that. Over the next three days, they managed to whittle down to an average figure, this making her bite her lip harder as this was going to put the crown even more into debt than it already was. 

"Do you have any idea how bad the debt is?"

She had asked the question quietly, a part of her hoping he did not hear her. But alas, she noticed his ears twitch a little confirming he had heard her.

"I know it was at least six million, your father sent a raven to Jon before he took his vows. There's at least two million from Stannis so that gets added on too. This combined with the million we've just gotten a figure on. I'm unsure of the state over the last few years, but it's at least twelve million, possibly more."

Upon hearing that number, Sansa closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Fuck. That was a lot worse than she was expecting. Some kind of trade is going to need to be agreed upon, and more taxes will need to be implemented but there were already dozens of them. And to think at one point she had wanted to be Queen. Now, that couldn't be farther from the truth. It was two weeks later before they reached Crackclaw point, and it was a further three days before they passed by Dragonstone. They didn't dock there, but she could see the monstrous castle built at the base of a volcano from where she was. It was the following day that anguished yells from on deck that caught her attention.

Steadily, she made her way up to see what the commotion was, fully expecting to need to ask someone. But the moment she saw the smoke rising on the coast, she knew they were at their destination. Even from where they were, she could smell the burning. Where the Red Keep once stood tall and bright against the architecture in the city, now stood a large circle that was still smouldering despite it being weeks now. She swallowed the bile that formed in her throat before veiling her emotions with her porcelain face, but inside she was in turmoil. Despite the horrors she had endured here, Kings Landing was a beautiful city. Well, minus the constant stench of shit that was. As they got closer and she saw the sheer level of destruction, she broke and ran to the edge and promptly emptied the little food she had broken her fast with that morning. Multiple others were doing the same as her.

She knew it was bad. But seeing it kicked it into place for her.

They docked a little more than an hour later and were met with a few people, warmth enveloping her as she spotted Arya in the crowd alongside the blacksmith boy Gendry. A part of her wanted to tease her sister considering she had always been vehemently against being with someone, and it wasn't difficult to see they cared for one another massively. According to one of her spies within Winterfell, Gendry had even proposed to her. Not surprisingly, she had refused. Essos and Westeros would merge into one again before Arya got married. She looked around to see if there were any other familiar faces but there weren't any. Completely ignoring protocol, Arya ran over and practically jumped into her arms, Sansa letting out a loud puff of air as she did so as she did not expect this.

"I didn't think it was this bad."

"If you think this is bad, this is with all the rubble and bodies cleared out."

The last word caused her gut to coil uncomfortably, but she couldn't show weakness in front of them. 

"Where are they?"

She looked around her again, trying to find a flash of silver or dark raven, but there was none.

"They're on the outskirts where the bodies are. Trying to find out who they are so there can be adequate burials-"

"Take me."

Arya opened her mouth to refuse her, but she gave her one back. Confirming she needed to speak to them. The sooner she does so, the better. Arya pulled her bottom lip in and bit it hard but she simply nodded her head in acceptance. 

"Follow me, but be prepared. It's not a pretty sight-"

"Can't be worse than seeing one hundred thousand dead men running at your home."

The younger snorted a little at this. She was led through streets that were so familiar and yet so strange to her at the same time. Multiple houses were destroyed, towers nothing but a few stacks of stone, and numerous dents in the streets where the wildfire must've bubbled to the surface. It took them a long time before they finally got to the areas that were untouched, although there was still a lot of ash on the ground which confirmed what had happened here. When they exited out one of the gates which was guarded by a dozen Unsullied, she stopped as she took in what was in front of her.

Seven hells.

That was the first thing that came to her mind as she eyed the bodies that were aligned. She couldn't see where it ended from where she was stood and her heartbeat rapidly sped up inside her chest, desperately trying to keep composed. Even Arya had a grimace on her face and she was a trained Faceless Man, nothing should trouble her. But this did, she could tell that.

"Qeldlie Vaokses, gūrogon īlva naejot se Dārys se Dāria." (Yellow Spider, take us to the King and Queen).

Sansa gave her sister a weird look at this. Since when did she speak High Valyrian? She must've picked it up whilst living in Braavos. She recognised a couple of the words; yellow, King, and Queen. What did she say though? The Unsullied nodded obediently before her sister gestured her to follow them. Nerves were eating her up inside but she managed to hold herself somewhat together. Which in itself was an accomplishment considering there were thousands of dead surrounding her. They were taken to an encampment and she realised it was a Dothraki one due to the way the tents were built, being directed to the largest one there was. The soldier walked inside and began speaking with whoever was in there before giving them authority to walk in. 

Once inside, her eyes widened in shock. She wasn't an expert with tents by any means, but this was obviously one built for numerous types of weather. From a soft touch, she could tell it was leather, probably from horses or dogs, and there was what appeared to be an adjoining chamber separated by deep red silk. This was opened now and emotions bubbled up she's forgotten she had as she took in his raven curls. His chest was all bound up and she remembered he had broken multiple ribs but other than that was unscathed. He winced a little as he walked but he managed to remain surprisingly calm.

"Sansa."

It was only one word, but she could tell the hurt that came with it. Confirming he did know it was her. Gods, how does she begin to explain everything? Before she knew it, she was running, and just like he had done when she had arrived at Castle Black a little more than two years ago, he caught her and held her head close to the crook of his neck. It didn't take long for tears to start falling down her face as she rapidly began apologising, her words being barely spoken amongst her sobs. 

"We need to talk, all of us. Come, we were just about to eat."

Steadily, he placed her down so her feet were on the ground again and pulled away momentarily. All she could do was nod because they did need to talk. The sooner they do so, the better. Once in the adjoining chamber, she spotted a large chest emblazoned with gold and filled with numerous items of clothing, and a huge bed that had furs that looked warmer than the ones the Wildlings wore. Jon sat down at a makeshift desk and only now she noticed Daenerys sitting there. With a large platter of freshly cooked fish and an array of fruits. She stood up when she saw her, body stiffening for barely a second before taking on a mask again much like she did. Awkward silences were something Sansa was not used to, there was almost always something going on in the background to keep oneself occupied, but there wasn't now. An uncomfortable atmosphere only amplified by what was about to be said.

"Jon, I don't know how to even begin-"

"No apology can make up for what you did, Sansa. You took advantage of two people in a very vulnerable position over something that was always in plain sight."

Her eyes darted to the wood, fingers trailing delicately along it as shame overcame her. Arya was remaining scarily quiet beside her, clearly waiting on a reply to his words. His tone was deeper than usual, and authority dripped from it like fat from a freshly roasted pig.

"You're right, I can't make up for it. But I know now, and I know the real reason you abdicated. Why did you not tell me?"

Now, it was his turn to look to the table, and she spotted Daenerys was holding his hand tightly. 

"Truthfully, I did not want to burden you. You were already doing enough, you didn't need that dropped on you. But I should have told you before I left to go to Dragonstone."

"I don't hate you for it, you know."

The words were barely audible, but she heard the slightly thick accent that the silver-haired woman had from travelling all over Essos since she was a newborn practically. Her violet eyes were filled with tears, but she could see the sincerity in them, and this momentarily floored her. Wasn't this the woman who burned people alive who wronged her?

"I've been in your position before. I was sold by my brother to my first husband. He raped me repeatedly, I was sneered upon because I wasn't one of them no matter how well I adapted to their ways. I've made stupid mistakes that I severely regret to this day but history cannot be undone. You didn't expect Tyrion to tell Varys, did you?"

Sansa bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, I didn't. I told him because he was your Hand, and because for a split moment I saw it as a way to displace you because I felt you were breaking my family apart."

"I respect that. I don't have many good family memories. I won't talk about my father in here but my mother did die birthing me. The man who took care of my brother and me died when I was very young. Then my brother lost all sense of control with his mind and was a stranger in the end. This coupled with the fact that I'm barren meant I'd long made peace with the fact I wouldn't have family. And I did try to keep him from you so I could experience it for only a moment. I love your brother, Sansa, deeply at that. And I apologise for being selfish with him."

If she wasn't floored beforehand, she sure was now. She was apologising to her for not allowing her to keep her brother to herself? Who was this woman? Now, she could see past the hard exterior she put on, saw the woman underneath it all. Jon wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her in close, pressing a soft kiss to her brow as he did. 

"We're getting married, sister. We don't believe Varys sent any letters out confirming the truth of me, but we can't risk it. We need to remain ahead of them all. I'm not going to become a pawn in someone else's game, and I'm not going to be used to spite my betrothed."

"Combining both claims so none can be used to overthrow the other."

Both nodded at this, and Sansa realised with shock that Arya was no longer here. When did she leave? And how had she not noticed? That was something she would need to ask later.

"We haven't figured out the intricacies of it yet, nor do we have a date in mind. But it is the most logical to actually have Westeros be at peace with itself. The main problem is succession because I can't have kids-"

"Are you certain?"

Daenerys bit her lip a little before nodding.

"My first babe was stillborn, and the woman who killed him inside me after manipulating me placed a curse on my womb. I've not had a moonblood since then. This coupled with the fact I did have a lover in Meereen, a seed never once quickened within me."

Her face contorted in on itself at this. 

"Who would be next in line then?"

Both now had their hands clasped in their laps before she spoke again.

"We've got two possible options. We've been discussing Jon taking a second wife and we get an heir that way, but he is vehemently against it. If this isn't what we agree on, then it lands on Gendry. He's Robert Baratheon's only remaining son as far as we know, and we do share numerous ancestors with him. But this isn't the worst of our worries currently. We need to identify as many bodies as we possibly can and then have a funeral. Then we need to start discussing reconstruction of Kings Landing. Succession can wait until later."


	7. Jaehaerys III

Three days had passed since Sansa had arrived in the capital. It didn’t seem like that to him at all, it felt like she had been here for weeks. Well, this may be because he was doing everything he could to avoid her. He was still hurt massively by what she had done, and the fact she had skirted around it and made herself seem like the one not at fault irked him. He’d been told by numerous people that some people won’t care about a link, and will use said link to get what they want often. Deep down, he hoped this wasn’t the case, but as more time passed, he realised there was more truth to it.

To say he was unsatisfied with her answer was an understatement. This combined with the fact her face was contorting in on itself. Over the years since he had faced his first massive betrayal which he still carried the scars of, he had learned how to read people. Nowhere near as well as Arya could though, but not far behind her in that. As much as she had not said anything, he knew she was plotting something, and she was trying to get them to befriend her so it would be easier for her to do so. But what was she planning?

A part of him knew what it was, remembering the words that wretched mockingbird spoke to him in the crypts. Of how he had loved Catelyn and now loved Sansa. Just thinking of the man made his skin feel like he had thousands of gnats crawling all over him. Blood boiling to an unnatural level that came with a mixture of being a dragon and a wolf. The dragon was beginning to awaken in him, he could feel it clawing away underneath the pelt and trying to break free from his bastard armour to be on full display. He’d tried to repress it in Winterfell when he had found out, but it was only a matter of time before the truth comes out regarding him, and he was not going to become someone’s pawn.

Perhaps that was why he was so distrustful of Sansa. She had undermined him at almost every opportunity when he had been crowned and she had made it known she only saw Daenerys as a foreigner taking something that wasn’t hers even though it was. Why had she suddenly switched to being helpful, not arguing, and being nice to his betrothed? He’d cornered Arya about it the day prior, her confirming she thought her actions were strange too which solidified his gut feeling. He needs to find out.

He rolled over underneath the furs to be met with a lot of silver hair. Some strands tickling his exposed skin as he placed an arm around her, the woman curling against him like a snail in its shell. Soft snores were falling from her lips and he spotted a little bit of dribble on the pillow beside her mouth. This caused him to snort a little and this jolted her awake, reddening in embarrassment as she spotted the small wet patch. She turned to face him now and she shot him a wolfish grin before kicking a leg over his and flipping him onto his back. Marwyn had began loosening his bandages as his ribs were finally beginning to heal. There was still a lot of bruising there, but it was nowhere near as bad as it was before. He watched intently as she swivelled her hips directly over his cock, desperately trying to hold in a moan.

This woman was going to be the death of him, he knew that for certain.

How had he gotten so lucky? People payed huge sums of money to lay with anyone with the blood of Valyria, yet he gets it for nothing. A part of him wondered what people would think. His parents, Eddard, Benjen, Aemon, Robb, the list went on and on. There was a fair chance he would’ve been betrothed to Daenerys anyway if things did go differently during the rebellion, aunt and nephew was not frowned upon much. He didn’t have much time to think as she suddenly sheathed him whole with her searing cunt, his cock twitching within her as she did so. They’d coupled dozens of times since getting together, but he was always left in a daze every time.

She started slow, getting used to having him inside her, but it didn’t take her long before she was bouncing at an incredibly fast pace. Her tits bouncing with every movement and her mouth opened just slightly as soft moans fell from her lips. He steadily bucked his own hips to meet her own after a minute or so, burning the sensation of having Daenerys Targaryen fuck him in his mind. His palms moved to her breasts to softly massage them, and he watched as she raised the back of her hand to her mouth- her way of suppressing a scream. Before she could react, he gripped her hips and flipped her over so she was on her back and he was atop her, wasting no time in filling her again. Snapping his hips forward at an animalistic pace and watching her face contort in total bliss.

He was close, he could tell from the uncomfortable knot that was beginning to form within. From the way his betrothed was biting her bottom lip, she knew she was the same as he was. With that, he reached down to where their bodies joined as one and pressed a finger against her sensitive nub, her eyes widening momentarily as he circled around the area. She lifted her legs and latched them around him, pulling him even deeper into her than he had been previously. Her warmth and tightness making Jon’s head spin unnaturally quick. It only took a further minute for her walls to clamp tight around him and for her to start squirming in ecstasy underneath. His own seed spilling not long after her, a part of him hoping one would take root within her womb.

“You never fail to surprise me, Jon Snow.”

He let a large grin take over his face as he pulled free from her and getting out of the bed to get dressed. Those that had been sent to Dragonstone were due to depart today and would be arriving tomorrow. Hopefully they would be able to identify some of the tens of thousands of bodies scattered around outside the walls of the capital.

“Where are you going? The furs are rather inviting.”

He snorted a little as he pulled on his clothing. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. She was going to be the death of him one day. How did someone so tiny have him wrapped around her finger as well as she did?

“I’m aware the furs are inviting, but I need to speak to her.”

No name needed to be spoken for her to know who he was referring to. After Sansa had left that day, Dany had been the first to call her out on the sheer lack of context from the younger female. She’d played her along by making it seem as though she was in the same boat as her, but they really weren’t.

“Does it have to be now?”

“Aye, the sooner I do so, the better.”

She remained quiet for a moment before nodding. Unsurprisingly to him, the redhead had decided to take up temporary residence in a house that was untouched in the blast. One not far from Lorena’s meaning he could speak to Davos as well as he had to speak to the man anyway. Marwyn had bound up his leg and his screams still echoed in his mind as he done so, but according to the Archmaester, was healing well. He would probably have a bad limp once recovered, but a lot of people will take a limp over being a cripple. He walked inside the house without knocking and he could hear voices upstairs. Now was his chance. He held his breath and tiptoed up them and lay just outside the door so no shadow would cast underneath the small gap to alert them to his whereabouts.

“Are you certain the work can be funded, your Grace?”

His eyebrows creased a little at this, needing to remain quiet so he could hear.

“Aye, I am. I know my brother. He’ll be able to talk to the dragon Queen to allow the money for us to prosper.”

Now, his blood was boiling. Anger surging through him to a point he didn’t know. Now he knew what was happening, and he recognised the voice. Robett Glover. He’d heard the man had died but he knew that condescending tone from when he had travelled around the North to get support to take back Winterfell. Of how he had sneered at him and then tucked tail and left when he had abdicated.

“I highly doubt the foreign whore is going to give us more than a million golden dragons, your Grace. Our best bet is the Iron Bank-“

“No, it isn’t. The crown is massively in debt to the Iron Bank-“

“They’re also known to fund other people in taking down others to get their due.”

Now, he was shaking in rage. That fucking treacherous bitch. His hand reached to his hip, wrapping tightly around Longclaw’s hilt before forcing the door open, almost coming off its hinges as he pointed it to them. Sansa staggered back as she eyed him, knowing immediately he had overheard their conversation. Robett was giving him an intense look of hatred, and he also saw Asher Forrester there too.

“My Lords, please leave me alone with my brother-“

“No, they will remain. You’re forgetting here Sansa who is King.”

He watched as her lips tightened and her body stiffened at his sheer refusal.

“You’re seriously still campaigning for independence even thoughyou’ve seen the fucking figures?! You’d all be dead in a matter of months!”

“Not if we had help-“

His nostrils flared as he bit back her way;

“If you think you’re going to get any help from us, you’re mistaken. I knew you were up to something when you came to me and Daenerys sobbing and giving us an estimate to get the North to a point where it would be stable again. I thought you wanted to help, when in reality you were doing so you could get money and claim yourself Queen. I never should’ve reinstated your inheritance that Robb took off you in his will.”

The other two occupants staggered back at this, mouths hanging open as they watched the ensuing fight. Very few people knew what Robb had done, there had been so few witnesses to it and most were dead. But one was not, and he was on Jon’s side and had been loyal right from the beginning.

“All quiet now? Let me tell them for you then. Robb disinherited her of all claims and titles that came with her name and reduced her to bastard status after she was wed to Tyrion Lannister. When we took back Winterfell, I reversed this because I knew I needed her as I grew into the role you selfish pricks gave me.”

By now, he was breathing hard, taking a little satisfaction at the disturbed looks on their faces at what they were hearing. Clearly she hadn’t told them about this, and from the way her own face was contorted in anger, he knew she did not like this at all.

“At least I’ll give the North what it deserves-“

“What the North deserves, or what you believe you deserve? You always wanted to be Queen did you not? Isn’t that why you stuck up for that mad fucker you were betrothed to first even though he literally held an actual sword against Arya’s throat threatening to gut her?”

She was about to say something, but the second those words fell from his lips, she stepped back, hurt crossing her features. Perhaps he’d overstepped a boundary there, but right now he didn’t give a damn.

“Unlike you miserable lot, I value my people as higher than my fucking pride. If you want independence, then take it. But you won’t be getting help from me nor will you from the Iron Bank. My betrothed has a direct connection with multiple people in Braavos, and Arya if you haven’t heard does too considering it’s where she learned to be a Faceless Man. You want to be Queen? Do so, I won’t stop you. But it will be made known that those million that will die from lack of funding and stock will be at your feet-“

“You can’t-“

“Yes I can, Sansa. And I will make it known. Is that why you told Tyrion?”

She went quiet at this, and he spotted the confused looks on the other two people, but he noticed Robett was beginning to look a little ill as this transpired.

“You disgust me. You stood under that Heart Tree and you swore you wouldn’t tell anyone until we’d figured something out. Not even a matter of hours later you told him and you did in the hope he would tell someone else. And to think it almost worked considering Varys was poisoning Daenerys. Luckily, she figured it out and had him executed. But if she hadn’t he would’ve killed her, then pushed me onto that fucking Iron Throne and then you were going to use my vulnerability in that moment to secede from the other Kingdoms?”

He watched as her eyes darted to her feet, not knowing what to say. Or perhaps she did know what to say and was playing coy to get him to feel bad for her. But as his words registered in the others minds, they turned to her with absolute hatred.

“You broke a sacred oath?!”

She was trembling now, he could see that much from where he was stood.

“Why don’t you tell them the oath you broke? I’m sure they will be rather enlightened by it.”

Despite him asking it in a questioning manner, the way his words were clipped confirmed it was an order. He could see her tears now, but he wasn’t going to fall for her mind games again. He’d done that enough and it had almost caused him to do something. In a way, her actions had worked out, because he was going to be King. Something he did not want, but it is the safest course of action once the truth does come out.

“Tell them!”

Asher was staring at him in shock now, never seeing this side of him before. Hardly anyone had seen him angry, but his sole focus was on his cousin.

“I swore to not speak-“

“Not that you cared considering you broke it. You took advantage of us being in an incredibly vulnerable position after the sheer weight of what Samwell found in the Citadel and the sheer extent Eddard would go to in order to protect family. Even if it was lying to everyone for sixteen years. He’d be disgusted by your actions.”

A look of shame overcame her now, but he knew he’d got them caught hook and line. With that, he sheathed Longclaw and moved to walk away.

“It’s going to come out soon because we don’t now if Varys sent any communication about it out. Let’s just say your Queen almost caused another Dance of Dragons. Eddard lied about siring me, he found my mother bleeding to death after birthing me and swore he would keep me safe so I wouldn’t be butchered in my crib like my real siblings were. Aye, I have Stark blood in me, but it doesn’t come from him. I am Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son to Rhaegar Targaryen. From Bran, we found out it was none other than Petyr fucking Baelish who told Brandon she had been kidnapped. Done so because he knew he would be killed and he would be free to marry his one true love Catelyn Tully.”

He didn’t wait to hear their response to the confession, storming outside and going into a side street before yelling so loudly to the point his throat felt like it was aflame. He wasn’t sure how long he had done so for, but when he stopped he realised tears were falling rapidly down his face as he steadily made his way into one of the houses and sat down, cupping his face in his hands. He knew she had been planning something, but he didn’t expect for it to be this. How long had she been using him? He couldn’t tell and that only frustrated him more as he tugged on some of his loose curls.

“What happened?”

He jumped a little before recognising Arya’s voice. When did she appear? He didn’t even hear her come in. Damn her and her Faceless Man training.

“I spoke to your sister.”

“She’s your sister too-“

Her tensed at this and she realised what they had talked about was not good. What the fuck had she done?

“She’s not my sister. Siblings don’t do that shit to one another. See that figure she gave us to help the North get to a state where it’s not on course for famine? It wasn’t her helping, she’s just admitted she was going to try and get a loan so she could name herself Queen in the North. She was talking with Robett Glover and Asher Forrester. And she lied about not thinking Tyrion would tell Varys, she banked on him doing so. Her aim was to get Dany killed, get the truth out about me so I would be on the throne knowing I want fuck all to do with the damnable thing, then she was going to use my confusion in that time to ask for independence.”

The words didn’t seem to hit Arya for a few moments. But when they did, she staggered back in shock. Analysing his face for any signs of a lie, beginning to get desperate when she realised this was not the case.

“I’ve just given her an ultimatum. Either the North remains a part of the Seven Kingdoms where we will help, or she secedes and everyone starves for her idealism of it being deserved. I will not have a million people starving to death for my own fucking pride.”

**A/N: Don’t hate me Sansa stans, she doesn’t remain like this for long**


	8. Arya II

Arya was someone who could count the number of times she had been shocked on both her hands. And she could count the amount of times she had been disgusted equally so. But now, there were only three times with certainty she could say she was disgustingly shocked. The first had been when she had first seen the dead breaking from the trees. She had been trained for years not to fear death and to instead welcome it, but how does one welcome death when it's literally running at you with a massive army? The second time had been a matter of weeks ago, when she had overheard Cersei telling Jaime what she was about to do and managing to run just before she was caught in the crossfire. Right now, was the third time she had experienced this sensation.

But this time, it was hitting home. Because it was family who had done this, who was causing this mess. In her whole life, she had only ever seen Jon cry once, and it was when he told them what Samwell had found out. She'd been gutted when she found out he wasn't her brother but was her cousin, but was rest assured when he had tossed her hair and called her little sister like he had done all those years ago before either of them had left Winterfell. But then, it was only a few tears.  
She's seen people struggling to breath from crying before whether that be in Winterfell, Kings Landing, stowing away in the Vale and Riverlands, but the last person she expected it from was Jon.

He was always strong, always someone who let himself be a shoulder for her to cry on. From when she was a little girl and suffered terrible nightmares. Every time she woke up from one and made her way to his room, he had always pulled his covers up and let her snuggle in to him until she had fallen asleep again. To say she was floored was putting it lightly. His hands were covering his face as he broke down more, clearly heartbroken and betrayed by what he had overheard, and she was too. His words repeating in her head like a catchy song that got played at joyous events. Sansa banked on Daenerys dying from telling Tyrion, getting Jon on the throne, and using their link to become Queen.

Deep down, a part of her always knew her sister was incredibly selfish. But once they had reunited, she pushed it to the back of her mind. Let her speak and watched as she ruled in Jon's stead whilst he was discussing alliances south. She remembered thinking that the redhead seemed born to be a leader. But she despised being corrected. It was always her way or no way, even when they were little kids still. Perhaps that was why she always got along so well with Jeyne Poole considering she was much the same as her. Remembering the time when Jon had looked her in the eye and stated she wasn't as smart as she thought she was- and she had defended her sister. 

Yet now, it became clear that Sansa really wasn't as smart as she thought she was, and now she had been caught in the worst betrayal possible. Arya didn't know what to do, what to say, not even what to think. She felt like she was being pulled apart like a game of tug rope, not knowing whether she would land on a side or if she would be ripped apart in the process. So she did the one thing she knew she could do. Walking into the street which was still littered with ash from the explosion but no more rubble aligning the streets thankfully, beginning to smell fresh air again- well, about as fresh as it could get with Kings Landing. She caught sight of her sister not long after, clearly trying to leave before she was captured, knowing she was now trapped. 

Arya hid in the alleys as she followed her, watching where she was going. From where she was, she could see the panic on the redheads face at being caught out in her plan. She passed a couple of Unsullied and she asked them to grab her sister and detain her, knowing she would not be able to do it herself. Sansa knew her too well, and would be able to turn it in her favour. Green Moth and Black Snake grabbing hold of her arms as she screamed for help before turning her to face her, blue eyes widening as she saw who had ordered this.

"Take her to the encampments. Make sure she is watched at all times."

For a split second, Arya saw betrayal cross her face but she was soon turned around and marched to the outskirts of the city where the remnants of their armies were. After this, she walked inside the house she had been to see Robett about to leave, but stopping when he spotted her, his face curling into a sneer.

"Here to do your spawn cousins work then?"

Arya immediately withdrew Needle at this, and quirking her eyebrow towards the man. He gulped a little but didn't back away, clearly too stubborn to do anything.

"I always distrusted you. Ever since you decided to back the Bolton's out of spite because Galbart died fighting Robb's war, proclaiming Jon your King and then hiding in a box refusing to help when everything was happening, and now plotting with Sansa to have everyone in the North starve so you can be independent? I think you're the one doing my sisters dirty work for her."

His face got a little red at her words, but she left him no room to speak as she stood right in front of him. It was rather comical, considering she was a foot shorter than he was, but everyone knew how lethal she was.

"Did Sansa ever tell you she told Jon that he was acting like Joffrey? Did she tell you that even with rationing, the North would last six months maximum before everyone was starving? Did she tell you that it was her who sold out our father to Cersei Lannister because she refused to leave as she would be labelled 'runaway Queen'? Did she tell you she sent a letter to Robb asking him to kneel to Joffrey after he took our father's head?"

She took great satisfaction at the way his face contorted. They had all collectively agreed to not speak about this because they were children, but Sansa was now acting like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum that she wasn't getting what she wanted. 

"Were you every told how she tried to talk Jon into not trying to save Rickon? Were you made aware she lied about how she knew where the Knight's of the Vale were? Or that she did not tell him they were coming to help?"

Now, his eyes were widening steadily more, his thoughts being thrown at him like a brick. 

"It'll be a fucking miracle if Jon lets you live after this. He does not take betrayals well. And he despises oathbreakers-"

"He's one himself! He should be at the bloody Wall!"

Her lips tightened at this and a moment later, Needle slashed him across his cheek at a frightening speed. The man stepping back in shock that she had done so. Her voice got darker than it ever had before, her face taking on a thunderous look as she spat;

"Let me tell you something, Robett. Jon is the epitome of an oathkeeper like Brienne named her damned sword. He keeps quiet on it because it troubles him massively, and I'm sure you'll be troubled too when you hear this. What if I were to tell you that he had only been alive again for three days when Sansa arrived at Castle Black after escaping Ramsay?"

It took a few moments for her words to sink in, and when they did, the sight was glorious. Eyes widening in panic as he realised what this meant. Everyone knew about Beric Dondarrion now, his scars had proved it enough.

"Jon saved five thousand lives out of one hundred thousand, and in retaliation, his men put their knives in him. Multiple of them. If it weren't for Melisandre riding through the gates and Davos thinking quick by stalling time to have the mutineers be captured, things would've been considerably different. He's come to accept what had happened to him and who he was, but life likes to laugh at him considering he spit it out to you I'm guessing?"

From how pale his face was getting, she knew that was true. 

"He should have allied with someone else-"

At this, Arya laughed loudly. Only noticing now the other shadow out of her peripheral vision. That must be Asher Forrester. That surprised her, last she had heard the man had been exiled for wedding Gwyn Whitehill despite their Houses being sworn enemies. 

"Who would he ally with? Only other person he could've was Cersei, and only a fool would ally with her. Now she was mad, the remnants of the city is more than enough proof of this."

She didn't let him think for much longer before lunging forward, pressing her fingers against his pressure spot and watching him slump unconscious to the ground. Now, she looked up at the other man who was visibly stepping back in fear. It was a known fact now not to mess with Arya Stark. 

"My sister has been detained, help me get him to where she is. I will be questioning her openly so everyone sees the spiteful bitch she is. I was blind to it, but this is a betrayal that is unimaginable."

Asher looked to his feet before slowly nodding.

"I didn't support it, but she promised I could come home and be with Gwyn-"

Compassion overcame her at this before steadily sheathing Needle again.

"If anyone will understand, it is Jon. He knows what it's like two times over to love someone he shouldn't. He won't take that from you, Asher. If anything, he'll get both of your families into a room together with guards to get to the bottom of your damned animosity."

He looked down to his feet, clearly on the edge and shaking a little in fright. Bloody hell Jon, how angry did you get? That was the first thought that came to her mind because he never got angry. He always remained calm and collected. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts before grabbing the mans feet, Asher looping his arms underneath his shoulders so they could carry him to where Sansa was. When they got there, the redhead was yelling, crying, and generally throwing a massive tantrum, Northerners were yelling at the Unsullied for handling her the way they were, and a big fight was about to break out.

“Shut it! I ordered them to detain her! And you’ll know why soon.”

Just like that, the surviving Northerners turned to her with surprise before reluctantly quieting down, but making their distaste known as they were all throwing dirty looks against the others. When they spotted who else was there, they were about to start again but she simply eyed her sword before looking at them, this immediately getting them calm again. Almost everyone was terrified of her now. 

“Arya please, you’re my sister-“

“You don’t give two shits about that considering Jon’s just walked in on you planning with this piece of shit to usurp him!”

Sansa stepped back at the sharp tone of the younger, and she caught the way the remaining Lords and their armies turned to Sansa in disgust. Good. 

“Tie both of them up and make sure they are guarded at all times. I’m going to find Jon again.”

She didn’t wait for a response, simply turned on her heel and ran towards the house he had been in but came up empty handed. Swearing lightly and trying to think where he would be. Daenerys? Unlikely considering their tent was far away from everyone else’s. Then it hit her, Lorena’s. She knew he saw Davos almost as another father figure, and the elderly man almost thought of him like a son. He’d lost multiple fighting with Stannis, blown to pieces by wildfire. Lorena greeted her when she walked in and offered her a blueberry muffin she had made that morning. Arya grabbed one and bit into the sweet treat, savouring the slightly sour taste on her tongue. She was right with her assumption as she spotted Jon sitting down beside the old man’s bed, but what did shock her was seeing the golden hand pin in his palm.

“I’ve detained both her and Robett. Asher I’ve left free as he admitted he was only supporting it because she was going to remove him from his exile and let him live with his wife.”

Jon looked down and sighed deeply. He’d finally stopped crying but it was obvious he had been as his eyes were all red and puffy. Davos reaching a hand out to squeeze his knee gently, and this tugged at Arya’s heart as their father did that with them when upset. 

“I never thought she would’ve done this.”

Jon shook his head at her words.

“Nor did I. I always knew she wanted to be Queen but I never thought she would try and betray family to do it considering she always goes on about how pack stays together. I guess I’m no longer pack to her-“

Arya smacked him across the face at that, which caused Davos to snort in amusement at the pair.

“You are pack. You are as much wolf as all of us in case you’re forgetting. The only different is you don’t carry the Stark name like we do.”

It went quiet for a few minutes at this, trying to think on what to do or say, all still reeling with surprise at what had happened in the last hour. It felt like a lot longer than that.

“I don’t know what to do, Arya. She broke an oath and tried to depose my betrothed so she could be on top. That’s treason twice over. One treason it is expected to execute someone, but she’s family. And I’m not going to be a kinslayer-“

“May I suggest something, your Grace?”

Hearing those words in reference to her brother was strange. She’d not gotten the chance to see Robb being treated with respect, and this was the first time she was seeing Jon being referred to as that. From the way he stiffened slightly, she knew he was not used to it either even though he’s technically been King for nearly two years. Depending on the person, perhaps even considered King from the moment he was born considering his actual brother was killed before he came into the world. 

“You swore you wouldn’t strip her again like Robb did, and you did so because you needed her. It was the right choice at the time, and you don’t like going back on your words unless you have no choice but to do so. Therefore, you’ll need to keep her in line, and what’s the best way to keep someone in line?”

Arya immediately understood what he was getting at, annoyed she hadn’t thought of it herself. She wasn’t the politician, but she did know the basics. The best way to keep someone in line is with a hostage. The very reason Theon had grown up with them, so his father didn’t start a war trying to be another Harren Hoare.

“I’ll do it.”

“Arya-“

She slapped him again at this, all three laughing at this, needing some kind of respite from what had happened today.

“Winterfell hasn’t been my home for a long time, Jon. I like going out and exploring and not being tied down in any way. If I stuck by you, she can’t retaliate as duty then dictates you to do something to me which only makes it worse for her in the long run.”

Still, he seemed hesitant by it, but her words were spinning in his head before letting out a sigh and nodding. She knew he wasn’t dumb, but numerous people expected this of him considering he was a bastard. Then again, he wasn’t. He was a Prince from the second he was born, the first in line for the throne considering the Baratheon claim was built on a spiteful lie of a mockingbird deciding he wanted it all. The man made her skin crawl from the moment she met him in Kings Landing, even more so when he had been speaking with none other than Tywin fucking Lannister. 

“I need to run it by Dany first, see if she agrees. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together. She’s not going to be one of those people who is Queen in name only.”

He bid the old man goodbye at this and moved to leave the house, her following behind him. A large shadow cast over them as they looked up, seeing the red and black dragon soaring above them. Even now, she was amazed at the sight.

“What’s it like? Being atop one?”

Jon kicked a stone on the ground, trying to occupy himself from his torturous thoughts.

“I honestly don’t know if I can explain it. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. One false move and you’re falling hundreds of feet from the air. Utmost trust in them is needed. Did I ever tell you about the first time one came up to me willingly?”

Arya shook her head at this, confirming he hadn’t.

“It was right after she attacked the Lannister army on the way back from Highgarden. She only took Drogon- the black one if you didn’t know, and a day later she landed about a hundred metres from where I was stood. She about to jump off his back when he ran towards me. I thought he was going to push me over the cliff or roast me then and there. But instead he lowered his head and pressed his nose against my palm. And he purred. You’d think something of that size would not be able to make a noise like that, but they can. He even licked my palm like the wolves did when they were puppies.”

She looked to the sky now in wonder, trying to imagine that gigantic beast doing something as menial as purring. 

“How is yours-“

“He’s not mine-“

She quirked an eyebrow at him at this, letting a small smile come onto her face at his amused expression to her interjection.

“We received a raven from Marwyn a few days ago. After I was given the all clear from him as long as I don’t strain myself, he headed to Dragonstone to help. Apparently his wounds are healing well and surprisingly no broken bones despite the location of the scorpion bolts used on him. He thinks Rhaegal will be flying again within the month.”

By now, they were at the tents of the Dothraki encampment, heading towards the largest one where they were staying. Both walked inside and once again she was surprised at just how nice the tent was. Perhaps she could ask one day how they learned to build tents like this. The leather/canvas mixture used trapped heat inside, and also created an even area to walk across and it didn’t feel like walking over damp grass. Plus, they were big. Even the smaller ones could hold a dozen people without a problem. The silk was pulled away and she stepped back in horror at what she was seeing. Two Maester’s and a healer were surrounding Daenerys, and the bed was covered in blood. What had happened? But then she noticed that the silver-haired woman wasn’t in pain, nor was she in distress. If anything, she looked happy. What in seven hells was happening here? She turned to her soon-to-be husband and spoke;

“A large build up of moonblood has just left my body after being trapped in my womb. I had this overwhelming feeling of needing to push and next thing I know, all this blood.”

She raised her hand to her mouth as tears started falling from her eyes. Jon eyed the other occupants of the tent and all left immediately, understanding the silent order. 

“Dany?”

“They’ve examined me, Jon. Something was blocking my womb but they didn’t tell me what, only that it came out of me.”

Arya understood now what she was trying to say, and was biting back a laugh at Jon’s clearly clueless state if his face was anything to go by. 

“It means she isn’t barren, idiot. At least, not anymore.”


	9. Daenerys II

In her life, there was only four times she could say with certainty that she was scared. The first was when Drogo was dying. When she had wed him, they could barely even interact with one another due to the lack of shared tongue. But over time, she learned his language and he learned a few words of common tongue which allowed them to converse. And over time, she had come to love him deeply. Losing him was something she never thought would happen for a very long time considering the sheer length of his braid confirming he had never been beaten. 

The second time she was afraid was when her dragons were stolen in Qarth because they were only babies at the time. Still small enough to be carried like a human baby. The third time was at Daznak's pit when the Harpies surrounded her and her allies. If it weren't for Drogon flying in right at that time, she knew she would have been dead. The last time she remembered being scared was when she received that raven from Gendry asking for immediate help. She'd tried to ignore her attraction towards the Northern King, but upon receiving that she couldn't do so anymore. Her advisors told her not to go, that she was needed here. But she had won in the end after saying there was no way the North would fall in line if their King fell during a stupid mission her Hand suggested.

She thought she had known cold in Braavos considering the cool breezes that came in from the Shivering Sea nearby, but that would've been hot in comparison to the North. She remained mostly in the clouds so she wasn't seen, but still low enough she could see the Kingdom he resided from. She'd seen snow once in Braavos, but it was only a light dusting of it. It was beautiful to look at. Then the Wall came into view and she was blasted back to being in the House of the Undying and herself walking beyond it. Another vision come to life. Gendry had told her to follow the eastern coast until she came to a settlement, and then go west from there until she reached a mountain that looked like an arrowhead. 

Daenerys had never known it would be possible to feel as much terror as she did as she saw them for the first time. She had laughed Jon off when he told her, but now it was frighteningly real. She blinked as she came out of her memories to eye her betrothed and Arya, her heart rate calming down a little now but this didn't last for long as she spotted the looks on their faces. What had happened? Jon sat down beside her and immediately ran his fingers through her hair, mewling in appreciation as he did so. She'd always loved it when people played with her hair.

"What happened?"

She watched as he turned away, and from the way his face was crumpled up, told her he was trying not to cry. This startled her massively. She had never seen him cry, never. And from the startled look Arya had on her face, she had a feeling she was in the same boat. 

"My sister just admitted she lied about knowing Tyrion would tell Varys. She did so he would work to displace you, get Jon on the throne, and then she was going to use their link to become Queen. That figure she gave you guys? It wasn't to help you, it was so you had an idea how much to lend her so she could get the North to a point it wasn't on the brink of annihilation. She had brought Robett Glover into it alongside Asher Forrester- although the latter was promised return from exile if he did so. Both her and Robett have been detained and we're awaiting what to do. Davos suggested someone as a hostage to keep her in line because Jon swore an oath he wouldn't revoke her titles again like Robb done all those years ago. I've agreed to do it."

To say Dany was surprised was an understatement. She had always known the redhead hated her, but she thought they were getting to an understanding considering they had both experienced things no one should experience. 

"No matter what Robett dies, but this will cause an uproar considering he is the last of his line I believe. Can we risk another House becoming extinct?"

"Either way he would be a laughing stock to the other Lords considering he tucked tail and left after what you done, refusing to listen to reason. The man has his pride so far up his arse it's wedged in his brain."

The other two in the tent snorted at this, that summed it up pretty much perfectly. Thoughts are spinning in her head now, seeing a window of opportunity to gain some respect to the Northern Lords. Whether they like it or not, she is their Queen now, and they need to learn that. Marrying Jon soothes it a little, but it won't bring them under her rule fully.

"I'll do it, execute him."

Jon turned to her in surprise now, not expecting her to say that.

"Why not take advantage of it? You Northerners always say he who passes the sentence swings the sword. If I show them I'm adapting some of their customs-"

"They'll be more likely to accept you."

She nodded at this before getting up from the bed, whistling a little so her handmaidens could strip it of all the blood. The inside of her legs were sticky with it and she knew she had to wash. Arya seemed to notice as she quickly left the tent, both heading to the separated area which had a large bronze tub in it which was already filled with steaming water. Daenerys steadily stepped inside and sighed deeply as the heat hit her skin. It was much warmer than anyone could naturally handle, but to her it was a pleasant heat. 

"I can do it, you know."

She shook her head a little.

"No, I will do it. Granted, I'm not the strongest person around, but I do have a good aim. I can use a short sword. I highly doubt I'd be able to swing Longclaw-"

"You do realise Longclaw is Valyrian steel right? It's the lightest steel around. Yes, it's a bastard sword and is very large, but it weighs almost nothing."

She watched as he unsheathed it and gently handed the hilt to her, shocked upon feeling just how lightweight it actually was. The pale blue ripple effect which determined the type of steel entrancing her almost. 

"I wonder what happened to our Houses Valyrian swords. They've been lost for a long time."

Jon gave her a look at this, one of confusion. Confirming he didn't know what she meant by that. Gods, how much was he sheltered to not know about those two swords?

"Blackfyre was wielded by Aegon, Dark Sister was wielded by Visenya. The last known wielder of them were Daemon Blackfyre and Brynden Rivers. No one had seen them since-"

"Wait, Brynden Rivers?"

Now, it was her turn to be confused. Why did that name shock him as much as it did? The man is long dead, meaning the last known whereabouts of the sword vanished alongside him.

"Brandon said he was trained by someone of that name, and that there was a sword hanging on the wall of the entrance of the cave. He was certain it was Valyrian steel. What if it's that?"

Daenerys sat up straight at this and looked at him in complete shock. The gaze she was giving him was one of utmost surprise. If what Brandon said was true (and almost everything he said was- damned ability), and it was Dark Sister, they had to retrieve it. But the last thing she wanted to do was go beyond the Wall again even if they had won. The last time she had she had almost lost both Jon and Jorah. The latter name caused her to pause for a moment. He was singled out and laughed off by everyone, but in the end both he and his younger cousin went down as proud members of their House. 

"We can discuss retrieval another time. We need to discuss everything. Fuck, Dany, it's ours. Like, all of it. I- I don't know how to process any of this."

Her lips tightened as she watched his face contort in on itself. He'd made it abundantly clear he didn't even want a title to his name, was happy just to be Jon Snow, but that was just words in the wind at this point. Even now, he gets laughed at and looked down on due to the upbringing he had, he will need to show who has the authority now.

"How did you gain respect at the Night's Watch?"

He frowned at her words, not knowing what she was getting at. Clearly, he noticed she had something in mind so he answered her.

"I helped out as much as I could. I recognised the fact I grew up incredibly privileged even though it didn't feel like that. And didn't take refusals to orders nicely. One refusal is fair if there is a good reason, but another was a question on authority and trying to be above me which could not happen. There weren't many of us, but they chose me to lead them, and I wasn't going to fail them. Aemon once told me something, it was one of the last things he said to me before he passed. Kill the boy, and let the man be born."

Upon hearing his name, her heart leapt a little. Tyrion had spoken highly of Aemon, but he hadn't known him well. Jon had lived with him, and it probably hurt knowing that neither of them knew they were blood. It was good advice, she mused. Advice she wished she'd had when she started her conquest of Slaver's Bay all those years before.

"Maybe you need to kill the man and let the King be born, then."

He snorted a little at her words, clearly finding them amusing. Steadily, she handed the sword over to him and he took it carefully from her, but it was clear there was a lot on his mind. He'd been betrayed horrifically before, but this time must be hitting him hard.

"I don't know what to do with her, Dany. She's just admitted that she intended for you to die so she could get me here and then claim independence and put us further into debt doing so. We've already got more than ten million of it, we can't have any more added to it. But I did swear I wouldn't strip her like Robb did, and I don't break my oaths. But I don't feel right about having Arya as my hostage either. Aye, she's agreed to it, and I'd love to have her around at all times, but I'm thinking on the future."

He said it all practically in the one breath, if the massive gulp of air he took after that was anything to go by. She didn't know what to think, because she had only been close to Viserys when they were kids, and he was the only family she had known until now.

"Then don't do anything. Do what your namesake done when he was faced with attempted betrayal."

He looked to the ground again and clasped his hands, tightening his fingers together to a point that was probably painful. 

"This is going to sound idiotic coming from someone literally named after the man, but what did he do?"

Now, she was shocked. He didn't know about Jaehaerys and Alysanne? She was going to need to sit down with him and educate him on all their ancestors and mistakes that were made.

"Jaehaerys and his wife Alysanne had the longest reign out of everyone in our House, pretty sure they had the most children too. If I recall correctly, thirteen in total. He was fourteen I think when he came into power? I think she was twelve or thirteen, I'm not entirely sure. But basically the Hand at the time Rogar Baratheon who was their mother Alyssa's second husband tried to discredit him openly during the regency until he was of an age to rule himself, argued that Princess Aerea should've had the throne instead even though it was collectively agreed the female line of succession was a last resort thing. She was their niece. She had a twin, same name as my mother, and they sent men to take Rhaella so she couldn't be used as a bargaining chip to stop it but the attempt failed. If what was recorded is accurate, when he was confronted, your namesake stated attempted betrayal is just that, words in the wind."

"So let her go?"

Daenerys rolled her eyes at this, him completely missing the mark there.

"It's a parallel Jon. A family member who betrayed another to better their own positions. It happens everywhere here. Everyone is spokes on a wheel, a wheel that continues to spin and crushes everyone beneath until there is no one left. If we're going to rule, we need to break this pattern because it's catastrophic in the long run. You need to show your authority to Sansa, and you need to do so publicly to get the North to heel. There is a way to do so but without stripping her. You named her your heir didn't you if you died before having children?"

Steadily, he nodded, drinking in her words.

"Play along with that. Don't strip her, openly state that she will remain your heir as Wardeness only. But name Brandon Lord Paramount which means that he has power over her. And his power does mean she won't be able to scheme against him. It's a win-win. And prevents us having Arya as a hostage if it sets you on edge that much."

He seemed to drink her words in, deep grey eyes gazing directly into hers. Clearly, he was still troubled by it all, unless he had another idea.

"Davos came up with an idea that has some merit to it, but Arya barged in afterwards so she didn't hear everything that was said. What if you were to an extent grant independence?"

She bristled at this and turned to him in shock. They've been discussing for days how to get everyone to heel to them and build Westeros back up from the ground, why was he backtracking? Just as she opened her mouth to retort, he held a hand up to quieten her down.

"Why don't we put it as the North is 'a' Kingdom of Westeros, and not one of seven? Technically nine if you include the Iron Islands and Dorne."

Now, Dany's interest was peaked as she steadily stepped out of the still steaming water, all the blood now washed from her thighs, pulling on a robe that had been left out for her and messily braiding her hair. Both walked towards their bed now, his words spinning in her head like the way Grey Worm twirled his spear on occasion. New covers had been put down, as had new fur blankets which weren't really needed considering it was warm here. Nowhere near as warm as Meereen was, but not too far off the mark.

"He suggested that, which separates them slightly. Then word titles differently so instead of being rulers of the Seven Kingdom's, Rhoynar, and everything else. Instead have it be rulers of Six Kingdom's, Rhoynar, the North, and everything else. Independent in name only. And to make this solidified, name me King of the North again, you Queen of the Six. Then when we do wed, you'd be Queen Consort of the North and me King Consort of the Six."

Slowly, her mouth closed as she thought this through. That could work, but there was a massive flaw in it.

"But if we went down that route, we wouldn't be equals. We could be used to gain an upper hand on the other which neither of us want. Nor is it something we need."

Steadily, he nodded lightly, clearly coming to the same realisation as she had regarding the suggestion. 

"Let me speak to her. One on one. No guards, no one else there. No weapons or watchful eyes. I'll try and convince her but I cannot-"

She was cut off from a shout from someone outside. Daenerys quickly pulling on a dress and tying the back of it as best she could and walking out to see what the commotion was now. It's one thing after another after another as of late. She wants it all to stop, but it won't for a long time. Westeros has been broken for way too long, and it's going to take many years to even be at a stable point again. From the persons clothing who was stood beside one of her guards, she knew they were Dornish. Following close behind as they were led to the cave where Jaime and Cersei had perished, only noticing now there was a section that had caved in, showing another compartment behind. Jon gave her an equally quizzical look as they were asked to come inside. The air was difficult to breathe, but luckily they only had to walk a few metres before coming to a bend in the tunnels. And when they saw what was there, both staggered back in surprise.

Five carts, all emblazoned with the Tyrell rose on the side. All of which were opened, and all filled to the brim with gold. They walked over to one and lifted a block up to confirm it was genuine, the weight confirming this was the case. She wasn't the best with numbers, but even she knew this would at the least pay a huge chunk of their debt off, possibly even all of it.

"There's more, we found this accounting booklet too."

A small leather bound book was handed to her as she opened it up, recognising the cursive handwriting Cersei had from the one letter she had received from her when she tried to get her to bend- like that would ever happen. She read it once quickly, barely gazing over the words. But then the contents sank in and she read over it more closely. Her breathing got heavy as she eyed her betrothed with complete surprise, him taking it off her to see what was causing this. It only took him a moment to figure out what this meant, and his face went white in understanding.

"She paid it off? In full?"

"According to the book, it seems Cersei Lannister paid off the crowns debt with the gold when she sacked Highgarden. This appears to be the remnants of that."

Stunned was putting it lightly. Only a matter of minutes ago they had been discussing the amount of debt they were taking on, and now they were finding out there was none? They were left alone at this, people clearly seeing they had a lot of information to digest currently. Her gaze darting from the book to the carts filled to the brim with gold in front of her.

"We need to get someone in to account for all of this, find out exactly how much there is. Then we need to find out if any more loans were taken out and what the interest is on them. We should also give handouts for those who have lost their homes and business so they can start up again, and we need to start reconstruction too-"

Daenerys wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, all the stress bubbling over now.

"I don't know what to do, Dany. My sister who just so happens to actually be my cousin was trying to kill you and usurp me of the North so she could be Queen because she believes she deserves it. I don't want her to die because as much as I'm hurt by what she tried to do, she's still family. There are so little of us left. I swore I wouldn't take her titles off her but duty dictates it and-"

Then the tears came again, startling her once again. 

"Jon, I'm not going to pretend I know what you are going through right now. Here is what we will do. We will let the dust settle for a few days, get as many of the bodies identified as we can and hold a funeral. Then we will set up a temporary council and bring them into it, and come to an agreement then on what to do with Sansa. We're biased due to links, and that wouldn't be fair."


	10. Jaehaerys IV

A whole week had passed since that fateful day. It felt like it was much longer, but could just be down to the fact that so much had been done in such a short amount of time. Two days prior, they had taken the last group of people around the dead to see if they recognised anyone. Unfortunately, only a couple of hundred were, out of tens of thousands. It was considerably more than they had expected, but it stung deeply the sheer devastation that had occurred.

He’d been screamed out, cursed at, and lunged at. As a King, this was considered treason, but he knew what they were going through. He’s been the one standing idle and not being able to do anything and wanting revenge. Remembering the time Sam, Pyp, and Grenn rode after him when he tried to join Robb when he first called the banners. He’d been nothing but a green boy then, and it was times like these he had wished to be that naive green boy again. But that was not happening, he’s seen too much to ever be like that again.

They had asked those who had identified some of the bodies what faith they followed, it didn’t surprise him most said the Seven, but there were a couple who followed the Old Gods and even one who followed R’hllor. The last one set him on edge, because out of them all, he knew there was something to that faith considering he had literally risen from the dead. All were given separate eulogies, blessings, anything that would have them pass over to the darkness peacefully. And then Drogon had released his fiery inferno on them. Once this was done, they gathered the remaining bodies that could not be identified due to the state they were in whether that be from missing body parts, crushed in bones, or burn marks. They asked Priest’s, Septon’s, and Septa’s to bless them, before they were given the same treatment after making sure none were claimed.

He’d gotten used to the smell of death in the last few years, even more so over the last few weeks considering it was all that lingered in the air. Hopefully, it would clear out soon, although he wasn’t looking forward to the putrid stench of shit to return in full force. Jon walked around the survivors, taking note on what they had done for a living to start working out figures to help get them on their feet again. It was going to make a big dent, but he was not going to be one of those people who sits atop a throne and has everyone else do the work for him. If he’s going to be King, he’s going to make sure he’s damned good at it. The gods seemed to laugh on him when it came to titles and honourifics.

The dour bastard of Winterfell being King of the whole of bloody Westeros.

Along the way, he was taking a note of all people who were obviously dead but could not be identified or were incinerated from their grieving friends and families, starting to plan in his head how he could help them. He knew the pain of losing family. He’d lost two brothers- technically three counting Aegon, but he never knew him. Technically a sister too. A father figure, and he had never known his birth parents. He’s lost countless friends by now and he’s become almost numb to it, but there were times where it got to him.

“Your Grace, a raven has arrived for yourself.”

He snapped out of his momentary trance before taking the parchment from one of the men helping out before nodding courteously, making his way back to his and Dany’s tent. She was sat down at the table they had, biting into a deliciously ripe plum, juices falling down her chin as she didn’t care about propriety when she was on her own. She turned to face him before seeing what he held in his hands.

“It’s from Bran, I think it’s his response to the whole thing with Sansa.”

She took a cloth and wiped the juices from her chin and standing up to walk over to him. They hadn’t spoke on what had happened once since she suggested they take a few days to let it all blow over, and he still had no idea what to do. Her betrayal hurt when she backtracked on her oath, but this betrayal hurt even more. He broke the grey direwolf seal and began reading, not even affected anymore that he knew what had happened. Bran saw everything that ever happened.

“He’s suggested allowing him to be a part of the small council to keep her in line.”

He watched as her eyebrow quirked a little before gently taking it so she could read over his words herself. Jon remembered Bran saying he could never be a Lord of anything, but there was no denying he would be of use. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell- that was something that had been passed down for millennia. The one time there wasn’t any Stark in said castle had lead to the Bolton’s taking over, and the last thing they needed right now was another war. They’ve been fighting non stop for years, it needs to come to an end.

“Send Sansa back to Winterfell-“

“Dany-“

She cut him off with a single glare his way, raising her hand to silently ask him to remain quiet.

“Send her back, but with a guard. Have her take men who are loyal to you, and a couple who are loyal to me. Whether that be them being trainers or personal guards we can decide. Once she is back, we will invite Bran down and discuss possible positions and ways we can use him. He can give us valuable information on the full state of the Kingdoms and not just what is written in books or anything, and that would only be incredibly beneficial to us as we start to build up this shithole we’re in. That will keep her in line considering he is the last Stark who can carry on the name, she’ll not jeopardise the extinction of a House that has been around since before the Age of Heroes.”

He let her words sink in, thinking them over in his head. Now he was furious with his younger self not paying attention in politics lessons. That would certainly be useful to him now. Then again, if someone looked him in the eye a decade ago and said he would be King of it all, he would’ve laughed in their face. It was all just so absurd, but it was frighteningly real.

“The Northern Lords won’t like that-“

“But they’ll rebel if you execute or strip Sansa. I’ll take a few prickly men being offended than trying to overthrow us.”

Jon snorted at her words before eyeing Longclaw against their bed. She’d been practising with her aim on it with tree stumps, steadily getting smaller until she had fully gotten the hang of it.

“I think it’s time.”

She nodded at this before he picked up the sword, quickly cleaning himself of all the dirt so he looked presentable, watching as she added a couple of braids into her hair to keep it from her face before walking out with him to where the Northern encampment was. Jon could tell Daenerys was nervous about doing this, knowing it could potentially backfire on them. But it was a step towards unity, which was needed more than ever right now. Arya was already there when they arrived, Gendry not far from her which caused him to quirk an eyebrow at the pair. It didn’t take a genius to see there was something between the pair of them, but it was weird thinking of Arya being with someone. Especially because to an extent, Gendry is his cousin. They do share numerous ancestors with one another. If he remembered correctly, his great-grandmother had been Aemon’s niece.

“Take us to them.”

His words were clipped as he eyed Asher Forrester, the other gulping as he remembered how angry he had been when he had confronted Sansa and Robett. But he took them to the tents they were being held in, being kept separate to prevent them scheming again. The guards bowed when they were visible as they walked inside to get them. Both were gagged, had their feet tied, and their arms strapped to their sides so they could not escape. His heart clenched when he saw her long red hair, but this disappeared as he eyed Robett. Dany ordered something to them in High Valyrian before whispering in his ear she had asked them to be taken to the clearing in the centre of the encampment. The male seemed defeated as he was walked over, but Sansa was fighting back- although she wasn’t getting anywhere.

Numerous Lords and their bannermen followed, curious as to what they were going to do. He heard a few whispering ‘Lyanna’s kid’, it now being out in the open. They’d sent in a few people to openly talk about it, relying on hearsay travelling faster than them gathering everyone together. And it had worked. Both were tied down to tree stumps that were there as makeshift seats for council meetings to be held considering there was no Red Keep anymore never mind a council room. Gags were removed and it didn’t take long before Sansa’s pleads broke the silence. Dany looked them both in the eye before looking to the ground, knowing he needed to do this himself. He walked forward to look them both directly in the eye before speaking.

“Both of you are charged with treason for attempted usurpation. How do you answer the charges?”

He kept his voice as steady as he could, but it was difficult to do so as he heard her sobs, clearly panicking as she thought she was going to die today. The other male sneered at him but he did admit to it, with a few colourful words thrown his way as was becoming of this person. Despite wanting to argue back, he couldn’t deny the way he had done so without hesitation, something that was admirable. Sansa was struggling against her bonds but she stopped as Arya stepped over and held a small blade to her neck. Jon could tell it was blunted on the side she was pressing against her skin with, but the threat was made obvious. 

“Jon please-“

“How do you plead, Sansa?”

He cut her off as he watched her tears fall down her cheeks at a rapid pace, desperately trying not to fall for it. Whether she was putting on a show or she was genuinely reacting he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to give ground to her. He couldn’t, this was a step too far.

“I only did it to protect you-“

“So you admit the charge then?”

Arya pressed the blade deeper against her neck at this and she yelped out a ‘yes’, the younger immediately putting the blade away and stepping to the side, seeing Gendry take hold of her hand and squeeze it, clearly preparing her for the worst.

“I’m sure all of you have heard what occurred a week ago, but I will confirm it if you are unaware of all the details. I walked in on Sansa Stark and Robett Glover discussing independence. I am fully aware a lot of you want that, but you would all be starving in a matter of months, and I was not going to have that on my conscious to appease a few people’s prides. They were going to get close to us to secure a loan, and then were going to secede.”

He licked his lips as he glanced over at them all, a few looking to the ground in shame. He hadn’t spoken the words harshly, just plainly. They all knew how bad of a situation the North was in, even if they didn’t want to openly admit it.

“Sansa, for years you have openly disagreed with me, undermined me, and compared me to people that I would never be. You swore a sacred oath under a Heart Tree directly to my face and not even hours later you broke said oath by telling Tyrion Lannister. You admitted you did this as you were banking on him telling Varys so he would depose my betrothed and then you were going to use our link to get independence without causing another war. That’s treason twice over, and that cannot be forgiven.”

She dipped her head in shame at his words, finally admitting defeat to it all.

“I’m fully aware a lot of you do not trust my betrothed. I cannot blame you. Neither of you have gotten to know her like I have, but you’ve also never given her the respect she deserves. She sacrificed a dragon saving my sorry arse, she lost almost two-thirds of her armies fighting our war when she didn’t need to. Even then, you all ignored her and refused to praise her. I’m not asking you to like her, I’m simply asking for you to respect her.”

Even more heads dipped to the ground at this, all clearly shameful over the harsh truth he was speaking. He unsheathed Longclaw which caused a few eyes to dart his way, following as he handed it to her. A few opened their mouths to yell in anger but Daenerys stepped forward.

“I know what I am to all of you, a foreigner stopping you getting what you want. But almost all of you forget I was born in Westeros. Not even far from here, a little less than a day away by ship. I’m not here to take your freedom. If the North was at a place where it could survive on its own, I would’ve been happy to discuss an agreement to that. You’re all forgetting I done so with Yara Greyjoy. The Iron Islands are no longer a part of the Kingdoms but we have trade with them. But the figures were that bad. Also, I think it is imperative to say that technically, your King did not bend the knee to me, he swore for me only.”

He eyed her with confusion at this, wondering where she was going.

“When Jon did what he did, he was suffering severe hypothermia after getting trapped under a frozen lake. He was bedridden, could barely move, and wasn’t speaking much sense. There was no placing a sword at my feet, nor was there any bending from him. He simply spoke the words, which a lot of people won’t take as an oath without the acts involved with it. But due to the state of the North, I accepted his pledge and his fealty. I always said that Westeros is nothing but spokes on a wheel, each spoke representing a House. One is on top, then another is on top, and then another. Constantly spinning, with hundreds being crushed underneath. I always said I was going to stop this vicious cycle because honestly, no one needs another war at this time. You’ve been fighting for years. We are going to do this together, and I suggested I be the one to carry out the sentence. The old way is that the person who passes the sentence is the one to swing the sword. Yellow Spider, fetch a block.”

He bowed his head a little before carrying out the order, appearing not long after with one in his hands, placing it on the ground in front of her. Jon gave her an encouraging look, spotting a few surprised expressions at her words. He was a little as well, she had never told him she didn’t wholly see his pledging for her as abdication.

“Lord Robett Glover, you are hereby sentenced to death from the sword-“

“What no dragon? I’m surprised-“

He was cut off as he was wrestled to his knees and his head bent over the block, cursing furiously under his breath. He watched as Daenerys adjusted her grip and with one well calculated swing, the mans head was on the ground. In total, it took a couple of seconds. Jon’s eyes closed as he let out a loud sigh, another House gone. But this betrayal was inexcusable. Sansa was wrestled to the ground now, but her eyes now held a defeated look in them. His betrothed eyed him and nodded silently his way before swinging the sword again. Everyone held a collective breath as this was done, but they all stepped back in shock at realising the sword had simply landed on the grass beside her head. The act reminding him immediately of the time he had been in the same boat with another redhead.

“Sansa Stark, you will not be losing your life. Nor will you be losing your titles. My betrothed did swear an oath to you he would not strip you of your titles like what has happened to you before. You will remain Lady of Winterfell and retain all its incomes. However, your brother Bran will be a member of the small council, he sent a raven to us earlier with this solution. But have it be known, if you attempt anything of the sort again, then you will be losing your head. We will be heading for Dragonstone to begin all the accounting needed in a few days, and a ship will take you to White Harbour twenty days from now. You will be escorted by a guard of Westerosi, Dothraki, and Unsullied.”

With the words spoken, she walked back over to him and handed the sword to him, quickly cleaning it of the blood on a loose rag he always kept on him before sheathing it. Robett’s body was taken away as was the block as Sansa’s bonds were cut free by Arya, the younger being stunned at what had just happened. Her eyes glanced at him for a split second and despite no words being spoken, he could see the thanks there.

“Yellow Spider, escort my sister to the survivors. She will be one of the first sent to Dragonstone. Have her placed in a room with a guard surrounding her at all times.”

Sansa was taken away now, her head held high in shock at what had just happened, tears still falling from her eyes at a rapid pace.

“Asher Forrester, please step forward.”

His eyebrow quirked a little as he did just that, wondering what was going to happen now. Jon handed the parchment over to him as he read over it quickly, stepping back in surprise at its contents.

“You were exiled for marrying someone you love despite your warring families. This decree releases you from your exile. You won’t be accepted by your wife’s family nor will you be accepted by your own for a very long time. Therefore, we are giving you the Dreadfort alongside all its incomes. You can remain a Forrester if you wish or you can begin a secondary branch, that will be your own decision to make.”

A lot of people were murmuring now at the move. Both he and Daenerys had discussed this at length after Arya confirmed he only supported the attempted betrayal as he was promised he could be with Gwyn.

“Thank you, your Grace.”

He simply nodded before taking everyone in, noticing a few nodding in respect at the decision to do so. The Dreadfort held bad memories for them all, but it was still a castle that held tremendous value, and this allows them to at least keep two Houses pacified until they can get them into a room to discuss everything.

“You may come to Dragonstone with us or you can travel back home. We will be wedding ourselves a sennight from now in the Weirwood beside our ancestral seat. You are more than welcome to come, a celebration is something we all need after the last few weeks.”

**A/N: I know a lot of people aren’t going to agree with the not killing of Sansa in this, but it will make sense in later parts.**


	11. Arya III

There were plenty of times where she felt lost, or didn't know what to think or what to feel. Ever since she was young, she had always been an outsider in the family- the very reason she was so close to Jon for as long as she could remember. Out of all her siblings, she was the only one to inherit the Stark look, and she stuck out like a sore thumb. All her siblings had varying shades of auburn hair and their mother's bright blue eyes. She could remember times where she would stand in front of a looking glass and try to picture herself without the awkwardly long face and flat black hair that was notorious for them. The only thing she ever liked about her appearance was her eyes.

Grey eyes were rare, she knew that. Eyes she shared with her father and her uncle Benjen. That she had also shared with their parents, Lyanna, and Brandon although she never knew them personally as they had been dead long before she was born. It took her a long time to really see something other than Arya Horseface as Jeyne Poole used to call her. She hated the girl with a passion, but she did feel bad for her. No one knew what happened to her after their father was executed , but it can't have been good. Did she remain in the capital? If so, then she was definitely dead because she hadn't recognised her in any of the survivors. But if she had escaped, where would she have gone?

No words were spoken, but heavy footfalls echoed from behind her and she knew immediately who it was. Soon, a man that towered over her tiny frame in both height and muscle with ebony hair and piercing blue eyes came into her vision. It had been awkward when she had saw him again considering what had happened between them the night before the dead arrived at Winterfell. Remembering just how careful he was with her despite her neediness to feel some kind of love which she hadn't ever experienced. After all, who could care for a Faceless Man like that? Everyone was terrified of her other than a select few.

"How are you feeling about it? You haven't spoken for a few days."

Arya looked to her feet before finally walking away from the looking glass to pull some clothing on. They were heading for Dragonstone that afternoon and she was both nervous and excited. She loved travelling and experiencing new things, and she'd heard Jon talk about how nice it was there. But she was not looking forward to seeing her sister again after what had happened.

"I don't know. Deep down, I know they made the correct decision in not executing her. But I've got this horrible feeling it's going to backfire on them because she did commit treason twice over."

He placed a muscular hand on her shoulder and squeezed tightly before handing her over something in a slim package. Eyebrows furrowing before placing it down on the numerous covers that were in her tent which surprisingly made a comfy bed. What was in here? Once it was opened, her mouth dropped in awe as she carefully picked it up. The hilt was a deep grey, and she spotted a ring of fur there as well. From how soft the fur was, she knew it was part of a wolf pelt. It had been dyed a deep red- almost looking like blood. With a carefully crafted dragonglass pommel in the shape of a snarling wolf, with grey stones where the eyes would be. But it was the blade which surprised her the most. Almost black in colour it was so dark, pale blue ripples throughout. Only a little longer than Needle was and just as skinny as she liked.

"Gendry, this is Valyrian steel, how?"

He looked to his feet for a moment before answering her;

"I spoke to Tyrion about it, about how your father's sword was melted in to two swords. One of which went to Jaime. He gave me permission to take that half. I know Needle is a huge part of your identity, but you deserve the best there is. I uh- I melted it down to make two swords. The Queen's Hand has stated the rest of it go to Brienne. She's carrying his child, she wants the babe to have something of their father."

Her eyes widened a little at this, trying to imagine the stubborn Tarth woman with child of all things- child of Jaime Lannister to boot. But then his words sank in fully, tears immediately springing to her eyes.

"Gendry, this- this came from Ice?"

From the simple nod he gave her, she knew. Her heart immediately clenching as she remembered the great sword she had tried on numerous occasions to pick up but always failing as it was taller than she was and much too heavy for her small body. But now she had a part of it, and it struck her that it mirrored Longclaw with the pommel. It didn't take her long before tears were falling down her cheeks at a rapid pace, him immediately pulling her in close to his chest. Arms wrapping tightly around her back and rubbing circles into the small of said body part.

"You don't need to thank me, you're like family to me. The only family I've ever really known considering my mother died when I was young and I never once met my father."

There were times where she forgot that Gendry was Robert Baratheon's son. Whenever she thought on the King in question, she could see nothing of him in this man cradling her like a small child. But she hadn't known him when he was younger, according to those who did know him then, Gendry was a spitting image of him.

"When are you travelling to Storm's End?"

He sighed deeply at her words.

"Not for a while. I know nothing about being a Lord never mind a bloody Paramount. Their Graces have given consent for me to shadow them in ruling and Davos is going to give me some pointers too considering he's been through the same change as I have. He also went from being a lowborn from Flea Bottom, and he's now Hand of the King."

"Even in the gutters you can find gems. That's something my father used to say to me when I was little."

She pulled away now and eyed the sword again, marvelling in its beauty.

"They say all great swords have a name."

Those words took her back. When Jon was preparing to leave for Castle Black alongside Benjen, secretly having Needle crafted for her and saying that to her after laughing over Nymeria's failure to follow a command. She missed her wolf, but it calmed her massively that she was running free like she was always meant to do. Jon had sent Ghost with Tormund but it became obvious he missed his own and he had sent a raven to the remnants of the centre of the Night's Watch to have him brought south. They had gotten the smallest of the litter, and now they were the only two remaining of the litter. Grey Wind shot full of arrows, Shaggydog's head sawed off, Lady butchered by her father on Cersei's command, and Summer taken down buying time for Bran to escape with Meera.

"Frostbite. A sword from the Kings of Winter deserves a name as such. It's not Ice as it's only a piece of it."

He nodded a little as she sheathed it in the black leather scabbard before tying it to her opposite hip. Making her way over to her suitcase to finish packing. It didn't take her long to do so as she didn't have many belongings to begin with, and soon both were leaving the tent.

"What's Dragonstone like? You've been before, haven't you?"

The older nodded at her words.

"It's a lot larger than you'd expect. Numerous villages and a couple of large towns, all bursting with cultures and races. There are numerous there who look just like the Queen- silver hair and purple eyes of Valyria. Although that makes sense as I'd imagine somewhere down their ancestry was a bastard or two of a Targaryen. The castle is made of black stone, melted rock from dragons and formed to create a monstrously beautiful sight. It's right on the coastline at the base of the volcano, with dozens of gargoyles aligning the walls. And it's the place I was nearly killed by my uncle and that damned Priestess. If it weren't for Davos smuggling me out-"

He trailed off at this, not knowing what to say. He didn't talk about it much which she understood. But it made her respect the man her brother had chosen to be his Hand twice over now. Many people looked down on him due to it because he was lowborn, but he wasn't afraid to say things as they were or to defy orders if he genuinely didn't agree with it. Someone like that would be incredibly valuable in helping her brother and soon to be goodsister in ruling Westeros. Everyone needs a person who won’t hesitate to say they’re getting too big for their boots, even Kings and Queens.

Just thinking that Jon was the King was weird. She remembered the dour boy who would deliberately lose to Robb to appease her mother. Robb never knew he did so, but Arya could tell from a mile away, had bugged him for weeks until he admitted to it. The boy who hid in the corners from view of everyone, and never caused issues. Now he was the most powerful person in Westeros. It stunned her at times, and he hasn’t had long to come to terms with it. Samwell had told him hours before the dead arrived and he had managed to put on a brave face and fight valiantly alongside everyone else both on foot and on dragon back.

They made their way through the encampment, seeing a few Dothraki pulling down their tents as they went, tying the materials to their horses. All the survivors had been placed in the untouched houses, and some were offered sanctuary in nearby towns and villages until the capital was built back up. The ship they walked on to was rather small, but no large ones were needed considering only some were coming to the Targaryen Seat. Once on deck, she spotted a few people mulling around minding their own business, a couple flinching as she walked past them as they knew what she was. Not that she minded, she never liked attention. Even when she was a little girl. She found Jon at the prowl, his usual fur cloaks and boiled leather garments now replaced with a rich cotton shirt and leather trousers, his sword strapped to his hip and deep red shoulder pads which contrasted strongly against the black of his shirt.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so fancy.”

He snorted a little at her words before wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her in close to his side.

“This was the compromise. My soon to be wife had numerous garments made for me in secret which are rather extravagant. She relented on those being worn solely for duties.”

This caused her to smile a little. She hadn’t had much time to get to know Daenerys, but it was obvious to anyone that her brother was head over heels in love with the woman. It didn’t matter she was his aunt- said pairings weren’t uncommon in Westeros. Only a few generations back in her own tree two Stark males married their nieces to preserve the line.

“I’m guessing she’ll be meeting us there?”

He shook his head at this which confused her a little.

“She’s asleep currently. She had horrific nightmares last night. I know not to get on her bad side by waking her up because it’s not pretty.”

They chatted on and off for the next hour or so, crew members still leaving them alone, and it didn’t miss her watchful eye Gendry was staying away. She didn’t know what to do with the man. She knew she cared for him, and she knew she didn’t want to leave him. It was something she would need to think long and hard on.

“Where did you get that sword?”

Arya paused in surprise at this, momentarily forgetting her new weapon. She unsheathed it and watched as his eyes widened at seeing the pale blue ripples adorning the smoky blade.

“How?”

Her cheeks reddened a little and from the way her brother’s eyebrow quirked a little bit, it was obvious he knew and was going to use this against her.

“Gendry gifted it to me this morning. It’s made from a part of father’s sword. Brienne has half, Jaime had the other half. But he’s dead now so Tyrion made a deal. He can have a part of it as long as the other part goes to Brienne to give to the child. Did you know she’s pregnant?”

From the way his eyes dropped to the ground, she knew he was aware.

“Gossip spreads fast when trying to distract one another. I see he had it made similarly to Needle?”

She unsheathed the other at this so they could be examined side by side. Both were so similar upon first glance, but the new one held a magical look to it. Despite this, Needle was her first sword, and it was a huge part of her. An extension on her arm, something she would be lost without. She’d lost it once before, and she had vowed she would never lose it again.

“It’s named Frostbite. I haven’t had a chance to spar with it yet though.”

His eyes darted to her for a second, lips turning up in a small smirk confirming he understood her silent challenge. With that, he unsheathed his own and she marvelled at the beauty of it. It was much longer than her own- at least a foot on it. And it was a much wider blade. A bastard sword versus a Braavosi sword. A few members of the crew formed a circle as they realised what was about to happen, a few audibly making bets on who would win. It was well known that Jon was one of the best fighters in the country- some would even say the best- but she was a Faceless Man. Most of all, she was Arya Stark of Winterfell, the King’s little sister. His favourite sister, and she knew this would be a weakness for him immediately.

Both held their free arms behind their backs so there would be no cheating, circling one another to see who would be the first to strike. It didn’t take long before Jon made a calculated thrust towards her mid-section, her twisting out of the way and aiming Frostbite against his temple only for him to duck and make an upward swing which if this were a real fight, would’ve gutted her open. So he’s perceptive, and he knew her advantage points because she was so tiny. She’d need a different strategy to what she usually used. Longclaw came towards her again and she dipped low for it to swing over her head, her own sword immediately retaliating by trying to hook behind his arm, but he expected this of her as he spun on his feet to free himself before she could lock him in position.

She tightened her grip as she eyed her older brother, both sporting wide grins on their faces. They had never sparred together. They had fought side by side in two battles, but never just a joyous match between the pair of them. He knew some of her tricks, and she knew almost none of his. Sparring is so much more different than fighting for life. One is almost lazy and the other is complete adrenaline. Longclaw came towards her in quick succession, understanding he was trying to loosen her grip so he could disarm her, her arms straining upon feeling his strength in the blows. She jumped out the way of one of them to create some space between them, using the moment of confusion to thrust towards his legs.

It was a bit of a cheap shot, but she wasn’t giving up easily. It would be expected of her to give ground to him considering his stature, but she was never one who stuck to what was expected of her. He pushed the blunt edge towards her which caused her to lose her balance and fall to the ground, but with a single twist she was back on her feet. He hadn’t expected her to bounce back so quickly and was startled a little as she immediately started swinging in fury. Even then, he kept up with her strikes with ease. She had to do something unexpected, but what? Then an idea struck her. She smiled for a split second before wiping all emotions from her face like the Waif had taught her. She aimed a swing for him, him doing the same as her, but mid swing she switched hands so fast that if someone blinked it would’ve been missed, giving her a new angle.

But she didn’t dodge quick enough, Frostbite against his neck and Longclaw against her own. Both were breathing heavily as they stepped away from one another before sheathing their weapons and him immediately reaching over to ruffle her hair. She squirmed under him at that which got him chuckling quietly, could feel the soft vibrations in his chest as he did so. She elbowed him lightly at this which only got him laughing louder.

“Why don’t you go back to your blacksmith? We’ll be there by nightfall.”

She was about to lunge for him in annoyance but then she remembered that would definitely be overstepping a boundary with him now. To Arya, Jon would always be nothing but her older brother. But he was so much more now, and the last thing he needs is someone standing against him with recent events. She turned around only to be met with bright violet eyes alongside piercing blue, both cheering them on.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be defeated before, my Lady-“

She pushed him at this, and Daenerys smirked a little at their byplay before heading towards her betrothed.

“I didn’t lose, it was a draw!”

“Same thing.”

She shoved him again at this and a few members of the crew began laughing at their interaction too. Both headed below deck and grabbed some freshly caught fish which had been roasted in spices and butter, and a small loaf of bread that had been baked that morning. Time was passed by playing a game of Cyvasse which someone had brought with them, although most of the time she spent explaining the rules to Gendry as he had never played before now. It felt like only a few minutes had passed but it must’ve been a lot longer because the small window there was showed complete darkness outside. They made their way above deck again, her wanting to see Dragonstone as they arrived at the island. She could see it in the distance, and she spotted both Jon and Daenerys were doing the same as they were. When the castle came into view, her eyes widened in amazement.

She had gotten a general idea on what it looked like from Gendry, but seeing it in person was so much better. The black stone almost glittered in the moonlight, the gargoyles being numerous metres in height and adorning the walls. Each one completely different. The volcano on the opposite side looking ominous and casting a dark shadow around much of the land. The nearest town filled with lights and music playing softly, clearly having a party of some sorts in the streets. When they finally docked, King and Queen were first off, her following alongside Gendry, and two men helping Davos off too. It was miracle the man wasn’t going to lose his leg with the type of break he had received, but she was glad he was going to be okay. She kept close to her brother and he placed a hand on her back softly before speaking softly.

“I suppose this is home for the foreseeable future until the capital is rebuilt.”


	12. Daenerys III

Ever since she was young, the only thing she ever wanted was to be able to survive to see her next meal. Growing up in the streets for so long had made her view things a little differently to others who had been handed everything to them. At one point, the only thing she had was her brother, but by that point he wasn't really her brother anymore. Not many people who have titles know what it is like to have to sleep on the cold ground whilst it was storming outside, nor did they know the pain of not eating for up to three days at a time. She remembered once where Viserys had managed to get half a burnt loaf of bread and she had thought it was the most delicious thing in existence.

It all seemed so far away now. Everything around her had changed, everyone surrounding her had changed, and she herself had changed. Back then, she used to run if someone so much as shouted at her. Yet now, if someone lost their temper with her, she would remain calm and was eventually able to have the other person be the same. Today though, was a day she had experienced twice before- neither of which were wanted. And she was bloody terrified. They'd been back at the castle for a little more than a week and it was just a flurry of people running around to get everything prepared. It's not every day royalty gets married after all, and a little pick me up was something that was going to be needed with everything that has occurred recently. 

There had been one hiccup in the plans, and it came to a standstill three days prior. She didn't follow any gods, and Jon followed the Old Gods, and the Septon's and Septa's did not like that. Someone brought up possibly combining the two, but that angered them even more. It was not a good idea to anger the Faith as some of her ancestors had found out the hard way. Eventually, they came to the agreement where they would have a small ceremony for family and close friends only in the Weirwood, and they would have a larger celebration a few days later under the Seven.

Jon had groaned when Davos had asked him to sit down and began lecturing him on said faith. From speaking with Arya, she understood why. All were brought up knowing everything about both faiths due to Lady Catelyn being of the south and being a devout follower herself, and once they were of age they would decide which one they preferred. The only one who had to follow the Old Gods was Robb due to being the heir. The more Daenerys heard about their family, the more she wanted to meet them. But that was something that would never happen considering most were dead. It was only Jon, Bran, Arya, and Sansa remaining. 

Speaking of the latter, she was being kept in a room directly below them, with a dozen guards posted every day. The only time she was let out was if she needed to stretch her legs and even then only if she had to. Despite what she had attempted to do, Dany did feel pity for the woman. She'd experienced a lot of the things that she had too, and it made her sympathise with her to an extent. But Jon was a long way off forgiving her- perhaps he never would. And if he didn't, it would be totally justifiable. There were times she wondered how she would react if Viserys were still alive. He wasn't always the way he was, used to shield her when it was raining and would give her most of the little food they had. It was when he had to sell their mothers crown that something changed within him and became nothing but a familiar stranger.

She didn't think about her brother much these days, but she had been recently. Shaking her head, she returned to what she had been doing previously. Two weeks prior, an elderly woman came up to her and introduced herself as Laenora, stating that she had been one of her mother's favourite seamstresses. She'd been wary on the claim but after speaking to people who knew her mother personally, it came to light she was. She had offered to make her dress for her, and Dany was incredibly touched by the suggestion. She'd even offered to make Jon's clothing for him too, and they had started planning then and there.

Her soon to be husband was more fond of dressing for function and not for show, but he was going to need to find a balance between the two quickly. This would be a good place to start. She hadn't seen him at all today, it apparently being a taboo to see the bride or groom a full day prior to the wedding in the Northern custom. A gentle knock at her door caught her attention and Arya walked in not long after, giving her an incredulous look over the fact she wasn't ready yet. Just then, Laenora walked in carrying a box which must've contained the dress. She was about to leave but with a small smile, Dany asked her to stay.

Upon opening it, her eyes widened in amazement. The top was a blood red with black lace for the sleeves, and upon inspection noticed a paler red used to sew in the silhouettes of three dragons. Her heart tugged a little at this, she missed Viserion deeply. Out the three of them, he had always been the cuddliest. Would literally allow her to walk around cradling him like a baby which Rhaegal and Drogon would never allow. But it was the skirt which took her breath away. It was completely black, with numerous swirls of red in a pattern that looked like flames rising from the ground to engulf her, and there were hundreds of tiny rubies twinkling in the light streaming through the window. 

"Laenora, it's beautiful-"

The older woman cut her off as she handed her over another box. If she wasn't surprised beforehand, she certainly was now. It was a small tiara made from black stone, with a large ruby right in the centre of it. There was also a matching necklace to go with it.

"Your soon to be husband wanted to surprise you."

Just like that, Dany's cheeks reddened. Even now, he surprised her massively. She paused for a few seconds before finally stepping over and pulling the woman in close to her.

"You look so much like her, you know. I knew your mother well. I made her own wedding dress too even though she wasn't pleased with her own betrothal."

She knew it already, Barristan had told her of how her mother and father hated one another as kids, and that neither of them were happy to wed, but duty calls where duty calls. Not many people end up with both an excellent political match and a love match, and she knew she was incredibly lucky to get this. She remained to help her get into the dress, surprised it didn’t have a corset built in which would give her plenty of room to move. It had a square neckline which was low enough to show off her collarbones but nothing else. Once it was just her and Arya left in the room, she realised the other was also wearing a dress which caused her eyes to widen.

“Don’t you start too, Jon just about toppled over laughing at me.”

A tiny snort fell from her at this as she positioned herself between two looking glasses so she could do her hair. Braids had become a part of her, and without them she felt incredibly vulnerable. Reminded her of the timid girl she had been when she was younger which seemed like an entire lifetime ago now. She started from the top with a simple braid going along the parting. Then taking a few strands from the sides to weave through each loop to create an effect that looked like a feather. Then taking the section above her ears and also braiding these back, incorporating the parts that she had pull through the top one. And finally, she took the remainder of this and done a simple braid all the way to the bottom, leaving half of it untouched.

“Why do you wear so many braids?”

As Daenerys tied it off, she turned to Arya and gave her a small smile.

“Braids are sacred to the Dothraki. Males once they are of age, are never to cut their hair unless they have been defeated. That’s how you can tell who the best fighters are- the longer the braid, the longer they have been undefeated. The women do this as well but it’s not as common. I was with them for a long time and some of their culture rubbed off on me I guess. When I hatched my dragons, I lost all my hair apart from a few patches. When it started to grow back in and got to an awkward length, I started adding braids to keep it out of my face. Instead of growing one long single braid, I interpreted it as each victory I had, I would add another braid. Hence why I wear them so often.”

The younger nodded in acceptance, with a thoughtful look on her face.

“We were always raised with the belief that the Dothraki are a savage lot with no compassion. Yet the few I’ve spoken to who know a little common tongue are anything but that-“

“Oh some are like that, you’re not wrong there. But they know discipline, and they know I wouldn’t stand for that so they don’t do it. But there are possibly hundreds of thousands more in Essos who were not with the Khalasar’s that were travelling to Vaas Dothrak that day.”

Now, she reached up and pinched her cheeks a few times to bring some natural colour there. According to Jorah, it made her look radiant. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the man loved her, but he also respected that she never saw him as such.

“Who’s going to be giving you away? Usually it’s a father or next of kin if they’re not around. But Jon is your next of kin and he can’t give you to himself. They’re supposed to officiate too.”

Dany looked to her feet now, not really having thought on it.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The closest would probably be Davos but he’s not healed enough to walk yet. And there’s no one else I can think of who can.”

“What about Davos’ eldest son then? That way he can do the service but his next of kin could do the honours so he doesn’t need to walk on his leg. I think he is of an age with myself.”

Now that was an idea. With that, she tasked the young woman in finding the man so she could meet him first. If he was anything like his father, then she would be honoured to have him there. She wasn’t gone for long, and soon a young male was stood beside her who towered over them both. There were times she hated being so short, and she believed Arya felt the same as she was even shorter than her. He looked a lot like his father. When he and his brothers had found out what had happened, they had left their castle at Cape Wrath and immediately sailed for the capital. 

“You have a favour to ask of me, your Grace?”

She smiled sweetly at him before nodding, suddenly nervous to ask such a question of someone she didn’t know.

“As you’ll know, your father offered to officiate for us. In their custom, he should be giving me to my betrothed. But due to his injury this may not do him any good. My son to be goodsister has alerted me to it falling to next of kin in these circumstances which would be yourself.”

It took a few moments for realisation to dawn on him, and when they did his eyes widened massively. 

“Your Grace, it would be an honour to do so. But I’m afraid I don’t know the Northern way-“

Arya stepped in now by taking his arm and pulling him away to give him an impromptu lecture on how it would happen. She’d heard from Jon that Devan had been Stannis’ squire and that his four older brothers had been killed in the battle of Blackwater Bay. She was going to ask Tyrion, but now she thought on it, she couldn’t remember if she had saw him since he found his siblings bodies in the rubble. Nobody cared what happened with Cersei, some had even talked about having her fed to Ghost when he finally got here again or even to one of the dragons, but something about mutilating something that was already dead did not sit right with her. Therefore, the Silent Sisters had worked on both bodies and were sent to Casterly Rock for Genna to decide what to do with them. She heard the gentle clanging of bells outside which was Jon’s warning to head down and take his place. 

Gods, this was happening. She was marrying Jon Snow. Well, technically Jaehaerys Targaryen but he was adamant not to be called by his true name in an informal setting. And to her, he was always going to just be Jon. The very man who around eighteen months before had stood in the throne room in this castle and basically called her an immature child directly to her face. She’d found him infuriating but something immediately drew her to him. And now she was marrying him. Nerves hit her like a rock being thrown right then, she hadn’t felt like this since Viserys agreed to sell her to Drogo. And that had been almost a decade ago, although it didn’t feel like it at all. Soon, the bells came again which was her cue. She stood up and smoothed out her skirt as she made her way down to the courtyard right outside the Weirwood where someone was waiting with a veil. It had a delicate lace pattern which matched the pattern on her bodice which confirmed Laenora had made this as well. 

Devan arrived not long after, Arya and Gendry behind and walking straight inside. A small laugh coming from her at seeing the very unimpressed look Arya had on her face. She hadn’t known her for long, but it was odd to see her in a dress. Daenerys breathed deeply as she took in the minimal decoration, just a few lights with the full moon directly above them shining down. There wasn’t even any wind tonight which was rare considering their location of being on the coast of Shipbreaker’s Bay. Everything was just ominously silent. The younger reached his arm out for her to take as they made their way down the small pathway. On either side of the path there were dozens of roses in a mixture of colours. Even a few that were as dark as the night sky- she had never seen a rose that colour before. But when they came to the small clearing with the large Heart Tree up ahead, she paused for a second as she took in her betrothed. 

She had never seen him dressed so fancy- but even that word didn’t put into context what he looked like. He was wearing firm fitted black trousers with knee high boots adorned with a mixture of red and gold in the same pattern as her veil and top of her own dress. His top half though was what struck her. It came right up to underneath his chin which she knew was probably uncomfortable, but he put on a brave face. From where she was, she could tell it was made of the finest silks and velvet around. Much of it was black, but there was a deep red design sewn throughout too alongside characteristic Stark grey which contrasted strongly. It came in tight around his chest and accentuated his muscles wonderfully, and he had a belt around his waist with Longclaw attached at his hip. He never went anywhere without it unless he had no choice. But what really surprised her, was the fact he was wearing a crown. One that appeared to be made of Iron like the Kings of Winter had so long ago, adorned with numerous rubies. Devan helped her remove her veil and the second their eyes connected, she felt tears building up. Don’t cry.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”

She could tell Devan was a little bit nervous about messing up, but she gave him a gentle squeeze on the hand which seemed to calm him down.

“Daenerys, of the House Targaryen comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

It was silent for a few moments, and she could tell Jon was also fighting off tears like she was. He cleared his throat before saying.

“Jaehaerys, of Houses Targaryen and Stark. Heir to the Iron Throne. Who gives her?”

His words had a little bit of a nervous hitch to them which almost caused her to laugh, and if it weren’t for her thudding heart she would’ve done just that. 

“Devan, of House Seaworth. Heir to the Hand of the King and heir of Cape Wrath.”

Davos gave his son a broad smile at this which calmed the other male down massively. Clearly the pair had a strong relationship despite the fact they had not seen each other in a very long time. Something she knew the older male regretted massively. She noticed he had his bad leg balanced against a large block of wood and was standing on his other so he was of his normal height. 

“Queen Daenerys, do you take this man?”

She stepped forward now a little hesitantly to stand beside him as they looked at Davos, and she felt him squeeze her hand to calm her just like she had done with Devan moments before.

“I take this man.”

There were more words spoken but she could barely hear anything. everything coming at her full force. She was married again, but this time it was decidedly different. This was the first marriage that she had wanted. One for gain, one for political reasons, and one for love. Remembering Quaithe’s words so long ago that day in Qarth. Some gifts were exchanged but it wasn’t many considering there were only perhaps a dozen people here. Her eyes glancing around everyone who was here, eyes narrowing a little at seeing bright red hair. Brodo was with her, and she could see her arms had been tied, but it was definitely Sansa. Thoughts overcame her which took her attention as Jon stated they were going to retire and prepare for the big ceremony for all the festivities. They would officially be getting coronated then too. A small guard escorted them back to the castle but left once they were in their room. The very one Aegon I had claimed before he began his invasion of Westeros three hundred years prior. Immediately, she watched as Jon pulled off the crown, mumbling under his breath in annoyance which caused her to let out a barking laugh.

“You’re going to have to get used to it, my King.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

A broad grin made its way onto her face before walking over to him, staring deep into his dark grey eyes which he had inherited from his mother. He’d inherited almost everything from Lyanna look wise, probably the reason why he was so easily hidden against Robert Baratheon. 

“Well, I thought you looked rather dashing in it, husband.”

His eyes twinkled at that word and soon she felt him pick her up as easily as if she was nothing more than a feather and carrying her to the bed, practically ripping her dress off as he did so, but she was pretty much doing the same as he was with his own clothing. They’d coupled many times by now, but this time was considerably different. Now, they were a married couple, and Jon made it known she was his just like she had made it known that he was hers.


	13. Sansa III

Sansa had never really known the feeling of failure. It had been drummed in to her from such a young age to always do everything meticulously well and to leave no trace behind. It was a skill she had only developed more spending time in Kings Landing and later under the tutelage of Petyr Baelish. It hadn't been difficult for her to convince Robett to join her cause as he was one of the few who openly spoke against Daenerys, and she knew the man was incredibly ambitious. Remembering Cersei's words to her that a woman's greatest weapon is the one between their legs. All she had needed to do was go up to him and offer to wed him if he supported her. 

Not that she would've gone through with actually wedding the man. He was much older than her, and she was not ready to let a man near her again after what happened to her in her own home. None of it mattered now anyway as Robett was dead, and they had already gotten Asher Forrester on their side by offering something better than she was. It irked her, and she wondered who had come up with the terrible idea to give the Dreadfort to them. Whitehill's and Forrester's rivalry was almost as famous as the Bracken's and Blackwood's. Yet here she was. Stuck in a room with nothing to do other than sew and read, nothing but a hostage. It didn't help that Bran had decided to come down and become a part of the small council, which meant he was against her actions too.

They had worked for years to become independent, what gave Jon the right to give that away without consulting the Lords first? That was what annoyed her the most, that he had just done so without informing anyone. Of course, she knew why he had now as he wanted to keep it quiet that the North was due for failure in the very near future had he not done what he did. 

"We need to trust each other, we have so many enemies now."

Those words had been circulating in her mind more often. Words spoken right after their fight where she had compared him to Joffrey and was insulted he was accusing her of undermining him. She hadn't been doing so, or at least she believed she hadn't, she'd been giving him valid criticism. It was something she had found out the hard way and she wanted to get Jon to realise that as well. Only it hadn't gone as planned. What made him react the way he had that day? Clearly something or someone had riled him up, or perhaps he had always had a short temper and she had never noticed because she ignored him for most of her life. Something she regretted massively now.

She'd had a lot of time to think ever since Arya had ordered her be detained. She'd been heartbroken by that, family sticks by family and she had put a thorn in her side by doing so. But how had they figured it out so easily? Sansa was always meticulous with her plans, so what had slipped through? There were two options that stuck out to her. One being a spy who had overheard and told Jon what she was planning. And the other was that he was a much more adequate player than he let on. It was obvious to anyone he was a natural leader, but being a leader of numerous Kingdoms? He'd done well with the North and ultimately made the correct choice in the end despite him being spat on for it, but now he's King of them all bar the Iron Islands. 

It had been a bitter pill for her to swallow because she was always taught to do better for herself so no one could tear her down, and her own carelessness had been the item that toppled her pyramid that she had worked so hard to build. She's now at the bottom and everyone now knows her as an oath breaker and attempted usurper. That word tasted like vomit and bile mixed together in her mouth. Whether it was from bitterness or from guilt she knew nought. No one had spoken a word to her since she was taken into that clearing and her head was placed on a block. At that moment, everything came rushing at her but she had refused to let tears fall. Realisation kicking in on what she had done.

Bran's warning back in Winterfell echoed in her ears so loudly it was like he was stood beside her yelling into her ear. She had bit her lip hard when she heard Daenerys lift Longclaw from the ground but the sharp pain never once came. Instead, it had landed a mere few inches from her. Still close enough that it chopped a chunk of her hair off. And then she had said she wasn't going to take her life solely because Jon had promised her he would protect her and not strip her. Her heart had been beating so fast in her chest when that had happened, and it was only when she was placed in a tent with a large guard surrounding her of Unsullied, she broke. 

Sansa was someone who never really cried. The last time she had where it wasn't forced was when Ramsay had- she shook her head at this to rid herself of that night. Hours later she was ordered out where she had been bound with ropes and escorted to one of the ships heading for Dragonstone where she was placed in a large room again. She was getting sick sitting there doing nothing, replaying everything in her mind to the point thousands of scenarios had whirled past her. She wasn't entirely sure how many days had passed before a soft knock was heard before Jon walked into the room.

It was the first time she had seen him since that day, and he seemed different. She could tell on that fateful day that he did not want to do what he did but duty did dictate it. As much as she tries to convince herself she was trying to uphold an oath their brother made, she knew now she had been doing it for her own ambitions. It had been a horrible realisation for her. She wasn't even sure when it had come, just one day she had started thinking it and she had cried for hours. Sansa had spent years wishing to get her family back, and when she had she had done something stupid which pushed them all away. 

"One of the cooks is bringing up some food for you. Lemon cakes are still your favourite, aren't they?"

His voice was deeper than usual, and she could tell he was fighting back his anger. She knew if their rules were reversed, she would not go up to him to talk, she was far too prideful for that. This is what smacked reality into her face and had her realise the real reason it had failed. She had underestimated him, and she had made the dumb mistake of plotting within close vicinity to where he was. He knew what house she was staying in. Gods, had she really stooped to that level of superiority? 

"You remember?"

"You always used to fight Arya for them when we were little."

Her eyes darted to the ground as he sat down in front of her. The book she had been reading was tossed to the side, not even taking much interest in it, it was just something for her to do. Boredom was nothing new to her, but this was a whole new level. Her lips tightened as she finally gained the courage to look him in the eye, taking in his attire. Eyes momentarily widening at the clothing he had on. She doubted he had ever dressed like this before in his life, so what was the special occasion? 

"Why did you do it, Sansa?"

She hadn't expected him to ask her directly. Had wholly expected for him to talk to her and then strike her when she wasn't expecting it. Her fingers interlocked as she tried her best not to look elsewhere as that would be a sign of weakness. But then she remembered that Jon was the King, and with that she glanced to the wooden table they were currently sitting at.

"At first, it was so I could uphold Robb's oath. You know he was campaigning for this-"

"He wasn't actually. I've spoken to a few of the Lords and those that were there when Robb was proclaimed King stated it was Jon Umber who first cried independence. He hadn't wanted to do so according to them, but he was put into a position where if he refused he would look weak in front of the Lords. Which as Lord Paramount and Warden of the North, he couldn't do."

Sansa leaned back at this, eyebrows creasing as she thought that through. That was news to her. Robb didn't want independence? If he didn't want it, why had he worked so hard for it? That would be an enigma for another day.

"As I said, I thought that's what it was at first. But I've since realised I wasn't doing that, nor was I arguing back with you to make you a better ruler. I was doing it for myself. You were right. I wasn't doing it because I believed the North deserved it, I did it because I believed I deserved it."

It felt like she was swallowing rocks admitting to it. She'd been trained to believe failure is one of the worst things that can happen to a person, and saying it aloud made it worse. She honestly felt like she was going to vomit from the thought. 

"How did you see through it?"

He snorted at her answer, clearly finding something amusing.

"Do you really think so little of me? I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I'm surprised that you didn't think drastically switching from hating my betrothed to being kind to her and trying to help her wouldn't have us questioning you. I had to pay a visit to Davos anyway and the house you were staying in was nearby so I thought I'd talk to you whilst I was at it. You see here Sansa, I can read people. Granted, nowhere near to the extent that Arya can, but I know when someone is bullshitting me. I knew you were as soon as you walked into that tent and began speaking to us kindly and trying to be helpful. Especially because you'd been undermining me for months-"

"I wasn't undermining you!"

Her tone was snappish, insult hitting her like a fist coming into contact with her skin.

"If it were in private, it would've been criticism. But it was the fact you were openly talking against me despite me being King and you simply Wardeness that made it undermining. Do you have any idea what that made me look like or were you more interested in what it made you look like?"

Her mouth dropped about to retort but he got one last shot in.

"The truth is, you've always been selfish. You sold our father out to Cersei because you refused to be seen as runaway or rejected. You lied to protect Joffrey even though he held a literal sword against Arya's neck when she was one and ten. You sent a raven to Robb asking him to bend the knee to Joffrey despite what it would make him look like. You were the one who neglected to tell me vital information regarding a large army coming to aid us, something which may have helped us save Rickon's life. Their deaths are on your hands just as much as those who actually killed them."

Hurt crossed her features at this, not liking being talked down to like this at all. Like she was nothing but a child being told she couldn't have her favourite sweet. A loud roar echoed through the castle which caused her to jump, and soon a large green head was in the window. Jon stood up and walked towards it completely calm, reaching a hand out and petting its snout like it was nothing more than a puppy. 

"I didn't come here to insult you. I came here to knock sense into you of what you almost done. The last time two Targaryen's were pitted against one another led to a war that lasted over two years, and it ended in this very castle as I'm sure you're aware. And it stemmed from the fact that people refused to have a Queen ruling without a King so they named a King anyway. You'd think you of all people would know not to repeat mistakes of the past but apparently not. But enough of that. I came here to tell you I'm getting married tonight. Our custom dictates all immediate family nearby be there which as much as I dislike it due to what you done, means you too. Grey Worm will be escorting you down to the Weirwood when the moon is at its highest. And tomorrow, we will talk. Me, you, Arya, and Daenerys. The coronation will be held in a few days and you will be on the next ship back to Winterfell after this. The last thing we need now is fighting amongst one another, too many people have lost their lives. We estimate more than half a million in total just from the wildfire alone."

With that, he left the room, leaving her stunned at his words. Of course, she knew they were getting married but knowing it was happening in a mere few hours was what surprised her. She had expected for them to wait until they'd started to build the city back up before doing so. Clearly they were getting ahead of everyone before they could be used against one another like what she had tried to do. She'd been given a navy blue dress, one that almost blended in with the darkening night. It wasn't as fine as the gowns she had worn in Kings Landing, but it was still better than what she had been wearing. A bath was drawn and someone came to wash her hair before cutting away at it until it was even again considering there was a chunk missing from when Daenerys had cut part of it off with Jon's sword. It was still long, but nowhere near the length it had been. 

She'd been escorted down by the guard that was with her at all times, only making her feel even more like a prisoner than she already did. They had stopped just outside of everyone else, so she was more of a spectator. Or perhaps because they would probably riot if she were seen. Her eyes had widened as she watched Jon walk in and take his place, carrying confidence in his step she had never seen on him beforehand, and wearing a crown. He had refused to wear the one that had been made for him when he was proclaimed King in the North, but he must've realised that now he had to look the part. 

As much as Sansa hated to admit it to herself, Daenerys looked beautiful. With her long silver locks braided intricately on the back of her head and wearing a gown that really was a sight to behold. And she could see in her face she was trying not to cry as was Jon at what was happening. Gods, they loved one another. She'd long since made peace with the fact that true love didn't exist. She knew her parents cared deeply for one another but it had been something that had been built over many years. Did you bend the knee to save the North or because you love her? Her own words were coming back to haunt her recently, but she honestly didn't have an answer to that one. He'd skirted around it when she had spoken it to him in such a cold manner. Did he love her before he had, or did he fall for her after he had? 

It was a quick ceremony, and surprisingly they didn't call for a bedding. Most weddings have them, but clearly they wanted the night just to themselves. As she watched on, it hit her that Jon looked happy. He always had a dour expression on his face but he was openly smiling and laughing during it all. Heck, even Arya was in a dress! She remembered thinking once that the seven hells would burst out of the ground before she would see her sister dressed as a Lady, yet here she was. 

A few drinks came out once the royal couple had left, the Unsullied escorted her out before anyone could see her. Although she did spot violet eyes narrowing at her for a split second. Much to her surprise, she was escorted to another room. One that was much larger, and from a quick glance had more things for her to do. Some art supplies, parchment and ink in case she wanted to write, an entire bookcase almost bursting it was that full.

"The King request you here. Food will be taken to you. We will take you to King and Queen midday."

She almost laughed at his wording, it not making much sense. But then she remembered with embarrassment that he had grown up speaking bastard Valyrian. He was a slave soldier who fought freely for the dragon Queen now. She barely slept that night, replaying the days events over in her head. The sun was beginning to rise when she had finally managed to fall asleep.


	14. Jaehaerys V

The day prior, was one he had never believed he would experience for himself. Aye, he had gone to many weddings but he was always kept in the background away from the festivities, but he had seen many. But being the one actually getting married? That was strange to him. Just thinking it had his insides forming knots within. It was rare he felt nervous, but he sure did in the lead up to it. Even more so after speaking to Sansa.

He groaned a little bit as he rolled over to be met with his wife’s face, her still asleep. Very few people get to see her like this, and he counted himself incredibly lucky to be one of those, and he gets to see it every day. Whenever she is being Queen, she always has a hard exterior, but when she isn’t, she’s one of the sweetest and funniest people around. He almost laughed as he remembered the night prior where he’d accidentally found out she was incredibly ticklish at the nape of her neck, and he had annoyed her mercilessly which only ended when she flipped them over and promptly mounted him then and there.

They’d coupled many times in the last few months, but nothing ever bet him lying flat on his back and watching her bounce up and down like her life depended on it. Even more so when she would clamp her fingers so hard against his hips to keep steady that she left bruises behind. Only two people had experienced this before now, and his blood boiled a little as one was still alive in Meereen. He had no reason to be angry because it was before they had met, and she had left the man behind to form a council to rule what was now called the Bay of Dragons.

To think this tiny woman was able to abolish slavery across three cities which were notorious for it was incredibly admirable. It hadn’t been easy, he’s been there when she confessed in detail all the trials and tribulations she had gone through to get there, of mistakes that she had made along the way that she regretted massively. Jon licked his lips before slowly getting out of the bed, making sure to not disturb her. Daenerys’ mouth was open slightly and a small wet patch was beside where a little drool had left her, one of her arms held in an almost comical position above her head reaching for the ceiling. 

Steadily, he pulled on his clothes and thought on what needed to be done. The talk with Sansa would be going ahead after their first official meeting even though they weren’t getting coronated for a few more days. His insides were twisting and turning almost painfully in nerves for it all. Who would’ve thought the sulking bastard of Winterfell would be the damned King of Westeros? And in only eight years. It felt like it was much longer than that, felt like a lifetime ago or a dream he’d had as a kid and was desperately trying to remember it.

He checked himself in one of the looking glasses to ensure he looked somewhat presentable, that now being something he would always need to be conscious about. His hair he had always been rather vain about, even as a child, something Theon and Robb teased him about constantly. Just thinking of their names made him feel unimaginable levels of guilt. He’d hated Theon as a child, and he had hated him more for betraying his brother, but in the end he went down protecting Bran from that icy horned fucker and he had risked his life to save Sansa. With both of these acts, he had considered the debt paid. With Robb though, he felt guilt because he couldn’t be there to help him. 

He felt a few tears come to his eyes before leaving the room, trying to think of something to do. Someone would need to start making an account for how much gold would be needed to rebuild everything, and they couldn’t do that until the gold in those carts was appraised. A missive had been sent to the Iron Bank and they were expecting to hear a response from a representative in the coming days. They would be able to find out if Cersei did take out any further loans. From the small book that was found, they knew she had taken one of forty thousand golden dragons, but it didn’t state what the interest was on it. Before he knew it, he had made his way down to the upper courtyard. Somewhere that had been built by the Valyrian’s of the Freehold for dragons to land. It was almost as large as the dragon pit was in the capital which surprisingly, had been untouched in the blast. 

He felt him before he saw him, almost like the sound a coin makes when it hits the ground. Then large gushes of air from above, followed by a dark green dragon with bronze swirls all over his body. Seeing him flying immediately calmed him, he’d been unsure if he would again after the injuries he’d sustained from Euron’s men. Rhaegal landed right in front of him and immediately tilted his head towards him, Jon reaching his hand out to pet his snout. The dragon immediately purred at the touch, and he could see he was shaking his tail in excitement. Gentle footsteps were heard and he snapped his head around to be met with Arya alongside Gendry. When they noticed him, he saw his sisters face immediately redden in embarrassment and the blacksmith looking down too, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“You can come over, he won’t hurt you while I’m here.”

Immediately, he watched as Arya’s eyes glinted, a small grin coming onto his face. Ever since they were young, Arya had been obsessed with dragons and their riders. He remembered literally reading books on them to her when she struggled to sleep and snuck into his room. Still, she walked over hesitantly until she was stood beside him. Golden eyes staring into dark grey that she shared with him as he tilted his head towards her.

“He wants to sniff your hand.”

The younger gulped a little before slowly reaching her hand out, managing to keep still as he sniffed at the skin. He clearly noticed she wasn’t a threat as he tilted his head against her palm like he had done with Jon minutes before, purring loudly.

“I thought you were kidding when you said they purred.”

He snorted a little at this, Arya now scratching the side of his face like she did with stray cats that sometimes came up to her, there now being happy chirps breaking the otherwise silent night. Another shadow appeared and he didn’t need to look up, already knowing it was Drogon. Rhaegal looked up at his brother before leaping into the sky after him, the two chasing one another towards their nest. 

“They’re like cats. Terrifying cats, but cats.”

Now, the snort did leave him as he tousled her hair, Arya squirming underneath him at the touch. His eyes trailing to the man he was with and despite no words being spoken, the female seemed to notice what was about to happen. She immediately nipped his wrist with her fingers- something she had done when they were children before walking away.

“Come with me, Gendry.”

The other man audibly gulped before following him. Remembering the last time they had been on this island together. A part of him wanted to laugh as he remembered Gendry saying their father’s were great friends. Granted, it was before anyone knew the truth apart from Samwell, Gilly, Bran, and Howland, but it was ironic. Soon, he made his way into one of the rooms before gesturing he sit down, him doing so as well in front of him.

“Your Grace-“

“Fuck sake, not you too Gendry. Call me Jon.”

He looked down a little, it becoming clear he was nervous. He knew what it was like to be in the boys position somewhat. Going from being a bastard to having a high ranking title was terrifying. But he didn’t have the luxury of being able to show this openly because of what his own title is. 

“I see you’re rather close with Arya. I wasn’t aware you had spoken in Winterfell.”

Gendry’s hands were shaking now but he managed to keep his voice level as he spoke.

“We met almost seven years ago. I was with her when she escaped with Yoren.”

Now this shocked Jon, he leaned back in his chair as he eyed the man with hesitance. Neither of them had ever spoken about that. And now it made sense how his wild little sister was so comfortable with the man.

“I should’ve told you when I knew you were her brother- or cousin, whatever-“

“She’s my sister. She will always be my sister no matter what. What happened? She’s not really told me much other than the Faceless man stuff.”

“I was with her for a good couple of years. When the Goldcloaks came looking for me, she thought they were looking for her. I was the only person other than Yoren who knew she was a girl- she passed as a boy well. Especially with the short hair. At some point we ended up with the Brotherhood where we met Thoros and Beric and the others. I chose to stay with them while she went ahead but this didn’t go to plan as they sold me to Melisandre-“

“I’m sorry, did you say sold you?”

Gendry’s fingers interlocked at this, and he could see the man was sweating as he remembered. Despite this, he nodded. Anger bubbled up in him more at the name. But he couldn’t make it be known he hated her, because if it wasn’t for her he would be nothing but ashes after being cremated. And she did help massively in the fight against the dead only to remove her necklace and die at the end of it at the ripe age of who knows how many hundreds of years. 

“I wasn’t a slave or anything before you ask. She took me here actually. It’s where I first met Davos. My uncle Stannis was still making his claim at the time and he was about to sacrifice me, but Davos talked him out of it. Instead, the red woman came to me and seduced me, and I’ll admit we did share a bed. But whilst doing so she put leeches all over me to get my blood-“

“There’s power in King’s blood, she said that to me once too.”

Gendry nodded at this in confirmation that is what she had said. 

“She put them in a fire and she spoke three names. Despite this, he still wanted to sacrifice me so Davos snuck me out, almost gave his life for refusing the order doing so. I believed Arya to be dead so seeing her there when I rode into Winterfell behind you that day-“

Jon took notice of the way his lip quivered, and from the way his voice cracked at the end just how he felt for her.

“You love her.”

“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t love me.”

He begged to differ. He had never seen Arya embarrassed to be seen with a guy, and she sure was embarrassed whenever he saw her with him. Her face heating up every time he brought it up to tease her, most ending with her giving him dagger eyes which never worked on him. 

“I doubt it. I’ve never seen her get embarrassed over being seen with a guy. If anything, she’s confused because she’s adamant she will never be a Lady. She cares for you, deeply, but give her time to come to terms with it. But I will tell you this, if you ever hurt her-“

He trailed off as he eyed the window, a large green head being there again. Gendry jumped at this, having not noticed the dragon right there. Technically, he shouldn’t be threatening anyone with the current state of the Kingdoms, but she was his baby sister. Then again, if anyone hurt Arya she wouldn’t hesitate to take their eye out with either of her swords. It tugged on him that she now had a part of Ice, glad at least some of it was back in the hands of the Stark’s. When Tywin had split it and gave one half to Joffrey and one to Jaime was a massive insult. That sword had been in their family for centuries, possibly even thousands of years. 

“Does it bother you being back here with?”

Jon didn’t need to say anything other than this, the silent question being obvious.

“Not as much as I expected it to your- sorry, Jon. The memories are still there but knowing that my uncle is dead as is the red woman helps massively. Kinslaying is seen as the biggest sin to all faiths, and my uncle-“

“He did. I’m sure Davos has told you already about Shireen. I was with him when he found out, I’ve never seen him like that.”

Jon stood up and took the flagon of wine that was in the room before offering some to Gendry. This was one of the rooms they were occupying to discuss personal matters. Although the night prior that had taken a different meaning, remembering Daenerys bent over the wood they were currently seated at as he took her from behind. No one needed to know that though. They’d been drunk on delirious happiness yesterday. 

“I met her once, lovely girl. We didn’t talk much but she just exude this aura about her.”

He knew what he meant with that. Shireen regularly skipped around Castle Black whilst her father was trying to convince him to leave his post despite his vows tying him there. To seeing her teach Gilly how to read. He was certain the angriest person in existence could spent five minutes with the little girl and would walk away grinning.

“You do know technically we are family, don’t you? If I had any idea on what Stannis was going to do, I would never have let her leave Castle Black. Aye, I’m a Targaryen, but I’m a Stark first, and us Stark’s protect pack like our lives depend on it.”

The words tasted like bile in his mouth as what they were going to be doing later that day came back into his mind. He knew it was the right choice to stick by his oath to her as it makes him look more trustworthy, which is something he needs. People were going to look at him with a side eye due to his upbringing not to mention his name. He was the living and talking embodiment of a war that tore the Kingdoms apart root and stem. 

“How so? I don’t know much on my lineage other than my father was Robert, I had two uncles, and Shireen was my cousin.”

The other male brought the flagon to his lips as he took a long gulp, awaiting a response from the King.

“Your great-grandmother was Aegon V’s daughter and he was my twice great-grandfather. And if you go back far enough, it’s believed the first Baratheon was actually a Targaryen bastard to the conqueror and his sister wives.”

The new Lord of Storm’s End’s eyes widened at this before covering his face with his hands.

“How in seven hells am I meant to take on a lordship as a Baratheon and I know nothing on my lineage?”

“I know how you feel, believe me. I had to ask my wife something my own namesake did because I didn’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I know the basics but not everything in full. Only difference is I’m helping bring back a dynasty, it’s terrifying, and you feel worthless due to lack of knowledge.”

He wasn’t sure how long they had sat there for, letting silence overcome them as this information sunk in. He’d learned a lot over the last couple of weeks since that conversation with his wife, but he was still far from an expert on his own family tree. 

“Anyway, I need to leave you Gendry as I do have an important meeting to attend. I’ll speak to Arya for you, but let her come to you and not the other way around because you’ll push her away if you do so. If it’s any consolation, I’d be happy to consider you a brother.”

He didn’t remain to see his reaction before leaving the room to head towards his own chambers. He knew Dragonstone well by now considering he had spent months here when he’d first come south so it didn’t take him long to arrive. Daenerys was sitting down at the table with a quill in her hands, clearly writing to someone. She looked over at him as he entered and quirked one of her eyebrows up. Silently asking where he had been.

“Ran into Gendry and Arya, I had to talk to him-“

“You didn’t threaten him did you?”

His face reddened a tiny bit which confirmed he had done so.

“Jon, you can’t go threatening Lord Paramount’s-“

“But I can threaten possible partners for my sister.”

He could tell she was annoyed but she simply shook her head at him, knowing there wasn’t a point in arguing with him on that. He sat down beside her and eyed what she was writing, eyebrows creasing as he saw the names.

“You’re writing to the Lord Paramount’s?”

She nodded at this before saying.

“I am. We’re getting coronated in a matter of days, and we need to solidify our rule. I’ve invited them to come down to pledge to us.”

The words swam around in his head for a few seconds before nodding in understanding, that was something that needed to be done. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any resistance to them, but he wasn’t going to be naïve with that. They’ve not had any resistance yet from anyone, but their House still holds wounds for a lot of people. It certainly didn’t help that they had dragons. Both Drogon and Rhaegal will massively help them in getting order, but if they use them too much they’re asking for another rebellion.

“I’ll write the ones for Lord Robyn Arryn and Lord Edmure Tully, I have a link with both. They’re more likely to obey me than they are you, no offence.”

She didn’t take it as that, knowing exactly what he meant with those words. They spent the remaining time until midday meal in writing these, making sure they were perfect. With no visible threat unless looking for it. 

“Shall we do this, then?”

Nerves immediately returned to him before nodding. The sooner they get this talk over, the better.


	15. Arya IV

She had never been someone who was fond of celebrations. Even when she was a child, she had always wanted to hide under a table and ignore everything surrounding her. The only thing she liked about large gatherings was that she had more opportunities to get away with a lot of things, because the focus wasn't solely on her. Which is why, for this one large gathering, she was looking forward to it. People had been running around the castle at unimaginable speeds. Making sure decorations were all set up and nothing was crooked, making sure the walls and ground were cleaned to the point the black stone was like a looking glass.

Dragonstone upon first sight seemed rather dull. Just a large black castle directly at the base of a volcano overlooking the coast. But now that she was in it, she couldn't hide her excitement. This structure was the only Valyrian architecture in Westeros (well, that was with a certainty. Some people argue that the High Tower of Oldtown was too but it had never been proven). Memories of a dynasty which wreaked havoc in Essos for thousands of years. Arya had always wanted to see what remained of Valyria, but that was just a one way ticket to being labelled insane. Very few people had managed to go there and survive. Cringing a little as she remember what had happened to Aerea Targaryen in this very castle when she came back.

It was almost ironic that a Princess who was known to be disobedient and wild had such a similar name to her. Deep down, she knew if they had lived in the same time frame, they would have been great friends. Alas, she had perished after being placed into a bath of ice with her insides crawling with worm-like parasites which were slowly boiling her alive. A small shiver wracked through her at the thought, what a horrible way to die. It would've been a mercy to kill her the second she fell off Balerion's back than to let the poor girl suffer in the way that she had. 

Arya snapped her head around as she heard excited chatter surrounding her, seeing a few people putting up numerous red and black banners in preparation for that afternoon. In a few hours, it will be official. Her dour older brother would officially be the King. But something seemed off to her, everyone seemed a little too happy. Aye, it was a joyous occasion that the mad bitch no longer had the throne as she'd blown herself up, but there had still been more than half a million casualties. Something wasn't right, and she was certain she was going to find out what was going on.

She kept in the shadows as best she could, remembering the numerous lessons she had taken with Syrio all those years ago. Even now, she missed him massively. But she had avenged him long ago by torturing Meryn Trant before slitting his throat after suffering for a long time. It was never within a Faceless Man's tactics to drag out a task, but she had genuine hatred for the man. She must've walked for nearly two hours and she had gotten nothing. Which meant one of two things. She was being outplayed, or there was nothing to worry about. Normally, people would immediately believe the default but it was rare she had gut feelings. And every time she did have one, it never ended good. 

Before she knew it, she found herself in the corridor her sister was in, the numerous guards outside standing as vigilant as ever. Their talk a few days prior had been incredibly awkward, and a part of her wanted to just punch her in the face. Jon had sheltered her and taken back Winterfell so she could feel safe, and she had spat on him by plotting to secede from him. She wondered at times why people had considered Robb a usurper for claiming independence, but now she knew. Robb had reasons to do so, he had wanted to avenge their father, but in doing so he got too cocky which ended in him being stabbed in the heart by Roose Bolton of all people. At least that weasel was dead, as was his vicious bastard.

Everyone makes stupid mistakes, but most people learn after one time. Sansa had not, and now she was a prisoner in Jon's castle that he was ruling from. How the tables turn. The entire time she had been making up excuses and didn't once say what had really happened. And it had ended in Jon snapping it at her in absolute fury. She kept rambling on about how she believed it was deserved and the Stark's had suffered the most from recent wars. She herself had almost smacked her at that, but she managed to keep her hands to herself with a lot of restraint. Sansa was going to need a wake up call and she was going to need it soon. It'll be a miracle if the Northern Lords allow her to keep her title now that they knew she had tried to usurp Jon and had been working to do so since he was first crowned. 

Despite these thoughts, she managed to walk past the room, not even sparing a second glance towards it. To think Jon had even had the decency to let her witness his wedding showed just how honourable he is. She hadn't known her sister was there, but when he'd told her, she had wanted to call him an idiot and curse him out in every possible dialect there was. Honour was something the Stark's held close to their hearts, and he was no exception to the rule despite him not carrying the name. Heck, she was still trying to come to terms that he was a Targaryen.

If nine name-day old her could've known, she would've never left his side. She had been obsessed with the family, especially the strong women with their swords and dragons at their backs. She used to run around with sticks pretending she was Visenya fighting off foes from every corner. Sometimes sat on her rocking horse pretending it was a dragon and she was going into war. It all seemed so long ago now, and that terrified her. Well, two days prior, one of her greatest childhood wishes had come true.

Jon had started waking up early to head to the upper courtyard to spend time with his own. He was adamant Rhaegal was not his but it was obvious he had bonded with the animal. The green dragon had gotten comfortable with her quickly and started purring whenever she was nearby- the sound still taking her off guard. Seriously though, how did something that big and that menacing make such a cute noise? She had been sitting beside him as her brother was scratching him under he chin, being confused as he lowered a wing. Jon knew what he was asking for and he had walked over only to stop and give her a wicked grin.

"Want a shot?"

When he had spoken those three words, she had been confused. But the second they registered, she had began jumping in pure excitement. Something she hadn't done since she was a little child being told she could have her favourite sweets. Rhaegal had practically flattened his body, seemingly sensing what was going to happen and was adjusting so she could climb on. Jon had pulled himself up and quickly nestled between two spikes on his back before reaching a hand town to pull her up. She'd always known he was strong, but she didn't think he could swing her onto a dragon with one arm. He'd situated her in front of him so he could loop his arms underneath hers to secure her, ordering her to grip onto the spikes. 

Remembering his words of what it felt like. Both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. When the dragon began to beat its wings, she was surprised at the force of the wind it created against her face and just as she took a deep breath, it had leaped into the sky at an incredibly fast pace. Her breath had hitched in her mouth but this was soon replaced with a large scream of joy, Jon laughing merrily from behind her. They didn't go far, only perhaps a mile or so, but Arya knew that was an experience she was going to remember for eternity. Now, she's one of a handful of people who can say they have ridden a dragon. 

Her senses came back to her now and she realised she was in the throne room, even more people bustling around in here than there had been elsewhere. Understandable though. Coronations are extravagant affairs, and weddings in the eyes of the Seven even more so. People had wanted to focus on one of them but her brother and now goodsister had put their foot down on that. They did not have the funds or the means for two celebrations, therefore were going to have one. The date couldn't have been picked better if they were trying. The seventh day of the seventh month. At least they weren't wedding at exactly the seventh hour of the day as that would seem a little too pretentious.

In her eyes, the Northerners eyes, and Daenerys' eyes, they were already wed. But if they are going to be ruling over the country as a whole, it needs to be official under both faiths. Especially with House Targaryen's track record of fighting with the Faith since the start of their ascension. The doors opened soon and she spotted her brother walk in, people immediately clearing a path for him and mumbling quiet honourifics. It being clear they were a little bit scared of him, or perhaps were not used to being so close to royalty. Arya walked over to him and it only took her a second to see he was absolutely terrified. His eyebrows were creased in the centre forming a thin line there, his cheek slightly indented confirming he was chewing on it and trying his best to hide it. Gods, what was he feeling like currently? She hadn't been there when he had been named King in the North but she knew her own people didn't care much for ceremonious occasions and were more straight to the point. It's baffling that one half of Westeros was so different from the other. 

"Jon?"

He didn't seem to hear her at first as he continued to look around, and she could see his hands were shaking slightly.

"Jaehaerys!"

This caught his attention as he turned to face her, relief immediately clouding his features before scowling for a second at the use of his Targaryen name. He simply tilted his head and she followed immediately, entering a small room.

"I don't think I've ever seen you nervous. Even when literal walking dead men were charging at Winterfell."

He snorted a little at her words before running his fingers through his raven curls.

"It's all the waiting around for it to happen. I just want it to be over with so we can get to work on getting this shit continent we live on to a state it hasn't seen in fuck knows how long."

Trust him to put it so bluntly. Never someone to skirt around what he thought. That was one of the only things he had in common with Theon. When they got into an argument- it always led to very inventive insults being used. Strictly remembering a time where he had called the Greyjoy a mutant sea slug. The older didn't even have time to think of a retort before their father had stepped between them to break up the argument. 

"You've been King before-"

"Aye, but it was literally them naming me and that was it. Nothing to it. No decorations adorning every bloody room of the castle. No gigantic feast. I mean, seriously, seventy-seven courses? I doubt even Wyman Manderly could manage that."

She snorted aloud at this. The Manderly in question was famous for his size. Almost looking like a large ball with two tiny legs and arms sticking out. Not that she ever said that to him though, and she was certain numerous people thought the same too.

"It'll be over soon. You're talking a couple of hours maximum here. It'll probably feel like seconds have passed before you'll be fucking your wife like there will be no tomorrow."

The glare he gave her at the last remark had her smiling broadly at him. Arya loved being one of the very few people who could mock him to his face now without facing a consequence. She'd wanted to do that with Robert Baratheon, and she sure as hell wanted to smack Joffrey dozens of times. In the end, he fell at the hands of Olenna Tyrell slipping in a bead of the strangler into his wine. She'd seen it in that play in Braavos where she had been tasked in killing the Lady Crane because someone was jealous of her. That woman had lost her life because she couldn't carry out an order. 

"It's all so pretentious. There are people starving on the streets, some with illnesses that they could treat if they had the money for it but they don't and are therefore getting worse. There are thousands without a home now due to what Cersei done. Yet in here? Nobody seems to give a damn about it. It's all lets pretty it up and make them look better than they actually are because titles makes you different. It's nothing but a load of bullshit-"

"Anything before the word but is horseshit."

He went quiet for a few seconds at this before a deep rumbling laugh left him, her grinning in response to him. 

"Do you think he'd be proud?"

The words came out with a slightly higher tone than usual, reminding her of how he sounded just before his voice had changed from that of a boy to that of a man. Clearly, he had been thinking about this for a long time. With that, she walked towards him and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. Him reaching down to grip her knees and pick her up like he had done when they were kids. 

"I don't think he would be proud, I know he would be proud. As would Benjen, as would Aemon be if they were still alive. I didn't get to meet the latter but everyone I've spoken to who knew him said he gave sound advice."

"Aye, he did. Sam considered him to be almost like a father figure to him. All he spoke about was how he felt so alone and yet I was there under his nose and neither of us had any idea."

A knocking on the door broke the silence before a servant called through that it was now time. Arya watched as he wiped his unshed tears before allowing his Kingly mask to take over his face. It was only now she took in his attire, seeing it was even fancier than what he had worn for his true wedding a few days prior which was saying something. It was something she was going to need to get used to now, as well as he. His days of black cloaks were gone. 

"No dress this time then?"

"Absolutely not. Once was bad enough."

He let her down and went to tousle her hair but she had expected it this time as she dodged out the way before leaving the room, him heading in the other direction. Despite her being someone who wasn't big on ceremonies, she couldn't deny a part of her was excited. She'd never seen a coronation before, and she wanted to have a fond memory of weddings for once. Her heart clenching tight within her as she remembered the last one she had witnessed. When she had seen a body being paraded around with Grey Wind's head sewn on. She hadn't seen him in years, but she knew in her heart the body had been Robb. She was glad Sandor had knocked her out before she saw anymore of the carnage and carried her away from it all. She missed him deeply, something she never thought she would considering it had been he who had butchered Mycah like he were nothing but a pig.

Don't cry.

She was repeating those two words over and over again in her head before making her way into the throne room, being shown to the front but to the side at her own request. She didn't want to be in the middle of it all. A large space was cleared in the middle for them to walk down and she could see the large chest which was opened to reveal two dark red velvet cushions with the crowns atop them. She'd seen them a few days prior but something about seeing them now sat weird with her. And she had no idea why. Perhaps it was because today it would be official. After today, Jon was going to be both her King and her older brother, and she didn't know how to process that information. A hand on her back startled her for a moment but she calmed immediately when she saw piercing blue eyes. A tiny smile coming onto her face as he returned his own towards her. 

The doors opened which caught their attention, and soon they were both walking down the clearing like they had no care in the world. But Arya could tell both were nervous, and a part of her almost laughed as she saw the boredom in Jon's eyes. She managed to keep it down as they made their way to the end before turning to face everyone, them all immediately falling to one knee in courtesy. An elderly man walked down the isle now, wearing a crown of crystal which every time the light hit it had a small rainbow forming. This must be the current High Septon. He was carrying a sceptre and also another stick she had no idea what it meant or what it stood for, not knowing exactly how this would go ahead.

It was only now she spotted a small bowl filled with water beside the chest the crowns were in, the man dipping his fingers in before rubbing his thumb over Daenerys' forehead, speaking loudly and clearly the oath of induction. A part of her wanted to laugh as he repeated the same process with Jon, but managed to keep it down. Gods, this was so awkward to watch it was almost painful. Then they were charged under the Seven, each god spoken and what each god represented. Of how they would guide them in their reign and wishing them good fortune. The King and Queen repeating the words back with clipped tones which she recognised as being the way people speak when they are trying to hide how they really feel. 

He lifted the stick he had and he placed it first on Jon's right shoulder, tapping exactly seven times before moving to his left and repeating the same process. Then he done the same with Daenerys. With each tap, another god was spoken. Gees, southerners like to flaunt their faith at every possible chance don't they? Then they took their oath, him dipping the end of his sceptre into the water and batting some of it towards them. Not enough to get them wet, just enough that a few beads were on their foreheads. And then he had asked them to kneel themselves, taking each crown in his hands carefully and placing it atop their heads. Even now, it was strange to see Jon wearing a bloody crown. He always spoke about how jewellery was just another way of showing how pretentious a person could be, yet he now has a piece of jewellery that was the most pretentious kind you could get. 

There had been no cloaking of the bride. The tradition being where the bride would be covered in a cloak with her husband's House symbol on it- but their House symbol was the same. A roaring red three-headed dragon on a black field. Their hands were bound together with cloth and both looked at one another and began to speak the words before a loud yell broke them from this. Arya spun on her feet as she recognised that yell, seeing Sansa fighting off Unsullied as she ran into the room before yelling to get down. Whether it was the sheer panic in her voice or if it was that she had appeared she knew nought, she did just that as did everyone else. It was quiet for a few seconds before she hesitantly looked up, seeing Daenerys slowly lower to the ground in shock. Why? 

She got her answer soon enough. The High Septon on the ground in a pool of his own blood, a blade sticking out of his head. He had been stood directly in front of Daenerys which only meant one thing. Jon seemingly coming to the exact same conclusion as she.

“Scout the corridor. Close off the borders of the island and patrol the castle now. No one is to leave.”


	16. Daenerys IV

It had been a long time since she had experienced the threat of an assassin. The only time she could remember with certainty was that one Robert Baratheon hired all those years ago that was stopped by Jorah. But then, it was out in the open. This time was decidedly different. It had happened in her home, the very castle she had been born in, had been whisked away from when she was hours old as Stannis was sailing to take it. Today was supposed to be a joyous one, but that had gone up in flames now. When she had lowered to the ground, she did not know. All she remembered was the panicked scream telling her to get down and then hearing a loud whistling noise and the sickening thud as it landed in the High Septon's skull right in front of where she had been. 

Sansa Stark had just saved her life.

If that thought had crossed her mind even hours ago, she would've scoffed. Yet it had happened. Jon was kneeling beside her now, talking to her to try and calm her down, only realising now she was breathing heavily as it all set in. Why would an assassin be sent now? All they're trying to do is piece everything back together. Aye, there had been resistance but that is expected to happen with rulers. There is no such thing as a ruler who hadn't had resistance. 

"Dany, it's okay. Grey Worm and the other Unsullied have just ran down that corridor searching for whoever done this. We will find them, and we will trial them, they will not get away."

No one was speaking, either staring at the terrified Queen or the pooling blood at their feet, not knowing what to say or even if they could speak. He pulled her in so her head was buried in his chest and she could feel him looking to the side- probably at his sister. What was he thinking right now? Was he just as shocked as she was that the very woman who had admitted to trying to get her killed had just saved her? What had happened to cause such a turn? 

"My Lord, escort everyone out. Send for someone in the Silent Sister's to come here to deal with him. I'll be taking my wife to one of the council rooms. Only immediate family are to come inside."

She wasn't sure who it was he was addressing exactly, Still desperately trying to get her breathing under control. Trying not to completely break in front of everyone because that would not look good. She felt him hook one of his arms under her bent knees and pick her up like she weighed nothing more than a child and carried her to the side, the very corridor Sansa had burst into. The redhead was currently being restrained by two Unsullied but they were looking between Jon and Daenerys with confusion, not knowing what to do.

"Escort her to the personal council room. We will be meeting there in a few minutes."

He didn't look at her once as he spoke these words, but they took the order after they tuned to her and she nodded to confirm she was okay with this happening. Footsteps from behind caught her attention and soon saw Arya and Gendry running down to meet them.

"Clearly weddings hate our family."

A part of her wanted to laugh at that, but Dany knew that would be rather insulting to them. But Arya was right with that one statement. Weddings do seem to hate the Stark's for some reason. She raised her hand to her mouth as an odd choking noise left her, catching their attention. None of them apart from Jon had seen her scared, and neither of them knew how to react to this currently. When they finally walked inside, they were met with Davos already there, giving them a stunned look. Despite the King stating immediate family only, he was glad he was here. In front of him, Sansa was tied down to a chair, the Unsullied leaving the room but taking precautionary measures. A few flagons of wine were there too, the Hand clearly noticing they would need something to try and calm them down. Steadily, Jon placed Dany on to one of the chairs and looped an arm protectively around her, the smaller immediately curling into his side like her life depended on it. The remaining two sitting down in front of them. It was silent for a few minutes, nobody knowing what to say or who should speak first. 

"Thank you."

The words came out clipped as she could tell he was still furious with his sister over what she had tried to do, but she could hear the thankful tone in there. She lifted her head from her husbands chest to look at her, nodding gently in reassurance.

"How the hell did you get down there if you were two floors up?"

Sansa looked down to her lap, if her hands weren't tied to the armrests tightly with belts, she probably would've had her hands clasped tightly.

"I heard a commotion outside the room. I had to empty my chamber pot anyway so I did so then and all the Unsullied were on the ground unconscious. They weren't dead but they didn't have any bruises I could see. Probably poison of some kind to knock someone out. But one was missing. I went searching and I saw him, but something seemed off about him. Yellow Spider was it?"

Daenerys' gut dropped at this upon hearing that name. No, please no. Not another betrayal.

"I was certain his eyes were black like most of the Unsullied, but they were blue-"

Jon snapped his head up now as he turned to Arya, the younger seemingly understanding too what this could possibly mean.

"You- you don't think-"

From the way the youngest's face fell, she got her answer. Her hand raising to her mouth again as she tried to fight of the wad of phlegm that was desperate to come out of her. Suddenly feeling violently sick, but she had to keep some of her composure.

"He didn't see me but I followed him, saw him going down that corridor but the other Unsullied caught me. They tried to fight me back but I managed to break free only to see him about to throw the knife towards you. I knew I couldn't get to you on time so I did what I could do-"

Her words cut off at this, struggling to breathe, practically vibrating in the chair as the shock of what had happened finally began to seep in. Daenerys wasn't someone who forgave easily- look at Jorah for example. It was only after he had saved her life after betraying her that she had forgiven him, and she had to send him away anyway as he had contracted Greyscale sailing through the ruins of Valyria with Tyrion. Of all places he could've sailed through, he had to go through the most dangerous of the lot. It probably would've been safer for him to do so through Mantarys or Elyria. Even going the long way and sailing into the bay directly like most people did who traded in Meereen.

"Your Graces, we found a body, it's one of the Unsullied."

Jon stood up to go and see who it was but she pulled him back down, looking to Arya. If anyone would be able to tell it was what they were thinking- it was her. Despite no words being spoken, she understood the silent order as she got up alongside Gendry to try and identify who it was. 

"Can't have a normal day with you two, can we?"

It definitely wasn't the time to joke, but all let out a small chuckle at the Hand's words. Even Sansa did, despite her refusing to look up from her lap. All fell into silence after this, not knowing what to do. The only thing they could do was wait on Arya coming back from checking out the body. Gods, if it was Yellow Spider... 

She didn't know the man well, but he was one of the few who openly spoke without being asked about something directly. They had been trained from a very young age to be completely submissive. Some had started to break that stereotype and become a bit more independent and actually think for themselves. It was a difficult thing she was trying to do, some would even say impossible, but Daenerys was raised to never give up. She herself had come close to starvation too many times to count and now she stood at the top of the board. The door opened not long after and the other two walked in wearing somber expressions. 

"It's him, face was peeled off but was placed back on the body-"

"She threw a knife at the person putting it on. She apparently recognised them-"

"I recognised the face, Gendry. Not whoever it was. But it was definitely a Faceless Man. Wearing the disguise of the Waif."

Jon's ears perked up at hearing that name, and she could see Sansa's did too. Clearly they recognised it. Arya sighed deeply before reaching down to lift her top up a bit, revealing numerous fatal knife wounds. Her husband reeling back in horror.

"I didn't die, if that’s what you're asking. When I was training with them, I was given an assignment. I couldn't go through with it though. I kill for revenge or when I have to, not because someone paid me to do so. That's when I realised I didn't want to be a part of the guild and I left. Jaqen sent the woman who was training me after me but I couldn't escape. She managed to grab me and stabbed me multiple times. The person who I was tasked to kill found me and stitched me back up but she found us, carried out my assignment for me and I had to run. We got into a fight and I was able to kill her. She was known as the Waif."

It was only now she pulled free from her husband and pinched her nose as she leaned forward. Reaching out to grab one of the flagons and downing a lot of the wine in one massive gulp. It probably wasn't very Queen-like for her to do so, but she needed to distract herself somehow from what had just happened.

"I'll get a raven sent to Jaqen to ask about who hired them. And I will make sure all of us are added to the book."

Confusion broke through at this but she realised soon after they wouldn't know what she was talking about.

"The Faceless Men have a book they write names down on. under all circumstances, any contracts that come in from said people are to be refused. No matter how much is offered. You could offer everything Valyrian steel there was in the world to them and they would not take it. Whilst I didn't complete my training, I'm still considered an advanced acolyte to them, which gives me the permission to add to the book. And if they don't, Jaqen will be reminded who saved him from the Mountain all those years ago."

There were many times she just looked at the younger and saw a little girl. It was hard not to because she was tiny and she was like a twig, muscles not seeming to grow on her despite her strength. But seeing the empty expression on her face right now, a small shiver wracked through her as she remembered she was a trained assassin. Trained under probably the most notorious assassin cult there is and also the most expensive.

"How much does it cost to hire one of you?"

She was surprised that she had spoken, looking to the other sister who was giving the other dagger eyes. Clearly equally as far away from their brother in forgiving her for her actions.

"An acolyte will set you back a minimum of two-hundred-thousand. But for someone fully trained, you're looking at upwards of a million. The largest contract I saw whilst I was there was eight million."

A long whistle left Davos at this, that amount of money shocking him massively. Not that the others weren't in the same boat. No wonder the crown was in so much debt for so long, she knew at least one Faceless Man had been hired for her before. Perhaps it was the same one coming back to finish off the job? Her hands were shaking, she realised that now. Quickly enclosing one in the other to try and stop it, but it wasn't to much avail. Someone had tried to kill her at her own wedding, with her husband right beside her. Of all things that could go wrong, that was the last thing she had expected.

"Why did you yell out, Sansa? You've already admitted you tried to move everyone so she would end up dead for your own benefit."

She froze momentarily at Jon's words, and she could see the other two males looking to one another before nodding. Gendry walking over to loop one of his strong arms behind the mans back so he could get them out so it was only the four of them. Arya was looking at her sister with one of contempt, but she could see curiosity weaved within as well. Daenerys could see her lips tightening as she glanced towards her but not looking her in the eye directly.

"I-"

"No excuses this time Sansa, tell us directly."

She wasn't going to say how deep his voice got had her wanting to mount him right then. Gees, when did she become a lovesick fool again? 

"I've screwed up enough as it is, and I know you won't forgive it. Hell, I tried to get her killed so I could have a crown. I always swore I would never become the kind of person to play people against one another for my own benefit. I saw Baelish and Cersei doing just that and I didn't want to be like them. It was extremely hypocritical of me, and coming to that understanding hurt that I may have been becoming like them. So, I've been listening in. Analysing as much as I could. And now everyone knows about the other things I've done like betraying father and Robb. I'm forever going to be seen as a stain and that's something I need to live with. Some stains never leave, but they can get to a point they are barely noticeable with a lot of work. I'll admit, I don't quite understand what you are both trying to do but we can't keep going on with this constant cycle. Order needs to be given and I know I can help with that. You won't be able to have heirs-"

"I'm not barren, Sansa."

This cut the redhead off as she looked to her in surprise. Only then did she remember she had not been made aware of what had happened.

"But I thought-"

"I believed I was. Had long come to terms with the fact I wasn't going to have a child of my own again after losing my first babe. I hadn't had a moonblood in years which practically confirmed it. But not long ago, I had this horrific cramping within, and this desperate need to push. I don't know what it was that came out of me but something did, and then years of moonblood came out of me at once. After getting cleaned up, a couple of healers and a Maester checked me and confirmed that whatever was blocking my womb came out during it all and that I can now bare children. So we don't need to worry about Jon having to take a second wife or training Gendry to take over anymore. I could be pregnant right now for all I know, my next cycle isn't due for another sennight."

She felt Jon grip her hand tightly at this. He didn't say anything, but it was clear he was hoping there was truth to her words. She's seen him with kids and it hurt her seeing someone that good with them possibly not being able to have them due to having a barren wife. 

"Despite all that, the last thing I want to be is a kinslayer. Nay, you aren't blood, but you are family as you are married to my brother-"

"Didn't stop you before."

It was only now she remembered Arya was still in the room, looking to her sister in shock at the words that were coming from her.

"They weren't even betrothed at the time-"

"And that makes it okay? You're forgetting her brother was married to our aunt. She was still kin beforehand just not as directly as she is now!"

Her eyebrows creased a little at this. She hadn't thought about it like that before, but what Arya spoke was true. Lyanna had been her goodsister, which to an extent made Brandon, Benjen, and Eddard her goodbrother's. She wondered if that was why Eddard had tried to convince Robert not to send assassins after her. The attempt failed, but he had still done so, and she would never get to thank the man for all he done. 

"You're right, Sansa. I don't think I can ever forgive you for what you tried to do. But I also wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for you. It was you who convinced me to start rallying the North to our side to take back Winterfell, it was you who got the Knight's of the Vale to join in which secured the victory for us. If you hadn't done that, I would've been crushed in that mob. Bran is already on his way down. We'll be consulting with him on this and we will come a decision. You're not being let off in any way but you did save my wife's life today by doing what you did. That's a big debt for me to pay."

"Only death can pay for life."

Dany's mouth opened a little as she turned to Arya with surprise.

"You know the saying?"

"The Faceless Men use it. They originated from Valyria too if you didn't know that. They started out as escaped slaves alongside the other initial settlers in the area. It's not just an Essosi saying for blood magic, it's a literal statement from the Freehold hundreds of years before. Nobody knows the reasoning behind it or anything though considering almost everything was lost when the fourteen flames erupted."

That piece of information surprised her, and from Jon's expression, she knew it surprised him too.

"If you go by that belief, she tried to have you killed, and today she saved your life. In your ancestors eyes, the debt has been paid."

She'd never thought about it like that before, and she turned to Sansa with an odd look. As much as she didn't want to forgive her and still hated her, out of everyone in the room, she knew what it was like to experience the things she had.

"I agree the debt has been paid for that, which is what I was about to say. However, you still tried to usurp me and use this to your own advantage. You've already been trialled, and the decision has been made. But I swear to you right now, if you ever try something like that again, I will take your head myself. Curse to the kinslayer can fuck itself. That is not a threat, that is a promise. Arya, untie her."

The younger did just that, and when she was free, she began stretching her arms. Probably cramped from the position she was in.

"You will still have a guard with you at all times. But you are free to roam the castle. But I will ask one thing from you. If me or Dany ever start to act like we're better than anyone else, do not openly state it like you did to me in Winterfell when I was first crowned. Have it be in private. There cannot be any open resistance to us because that will only end in fire. We cannot afford another war, we've taken on a massive role here and millions of people are looking to us now. Instead of bettering ourselves like so many other rulers prioritised, we are going to focus on bettering everyone. Nobody should be stuck to a point where they cannot get past a certain position, everyone deserves an opportunity. Your reputation is hanging on a thread of being irreparable currently and as much as I hate you for what you did, you're still my sister. Cousin by blood, but I'll always see you as a sister."


	17. Jaehaerys VI

Chaos.

That was the only word that described the last few days. The whole castle had been under strict arrest until now as they waited on Arya to write a raven to whoever her contacts were at the House of Black and White. She must've wrote it a dozen times before she was finally happy with it. And once she had, Dany had mounted Drogon with her strapped in behind her to make the short trip to Braavos on dragonback. It was strange seeing her atop one of them, even if he had taken her up on Rhaegal himself only a few days prior. He knew his wife wouldn't let her fall though, and this calmed him massively. 

They had left three days ago, and it was expected that they be back some point today. It was strange being the only one out of them who was still in the castle other than Gendry. He'd gotten to know the man a bit better, them exchanging stories of his wild little sister and laughing merrily. But it had come to a standstill when he had let slip that he had proposed to her, and weeks ago at that. Jon had choked for a second on his ale as the words fell from the Baratheon, and when he had noticed his reaction to the confession, he had been quick to state she had turned him down. 

For someone who was always so open with him, it was amusing to him that she was trying to hide her love life from him. It was to no avail though considering he knew her inside out, something he'd always been able to do with her. Nerves were eating him up today though, as they were expecting the representative from the Iron Bank to arrive. Tycho Nestoris if he remembered correctly (what was it with Essosi and their weird names?) When Davos had heard the name, he had winced and said he would need to be on his toes, stating it was the same man he had brokered a deal with Stannis on. He'd negotiated for loans beforehand but dealing with the fear Iron Bank of Braavos? That was something he never thought he would do. Hopefully Dany would be back before he got here.

"Your Grace, ravens have arrived."

He snapped his head towards Maester Pylos. Someone who had been sent to be the previous Maester’s replacement when he got so ill he could barely walk down a staircase without being in agony. Jon nodded lightly his way as he walked into the room, still being a little jittery at it all. The previous Maester had known the Targaryen's well, but Pylos had never met one until he and Daenerys stepped foot in the castle. Multiple pieces of parchment were placed in front of him each with individual seals, understanding these were the replies to the ravens they had sent to the Lord Paramount's.

"Thank you, Maester. If any assistance is needed, I shall send for you."

He bowed his head lowly at that before walking from the room, him sitting down to start going through the responses. Almost wincing when he saw the sun and spear sigil of the Martell's. They had talked about that one but no matter what it was going to be difficult to have them come under them. And solely down to Jon. If Rhaegar hadn't annulled his marriage to Elia secretly, if he had not gone after Lyanna, Aegon and Rhaenys might still be alive. Steadily, he broke the seal and began to read, clearly a woman's hand if the cursive was anything to go by. Like he expected, it was worded that Arianne would follow Daenerys but wanted proof that she could follow him. Very much a kind way of saying 'I will not follow you'. Understandable, considering his own blood siblings had been the Dornish woman's cousins. She probably knew them personally. 

The second came from someone he had never met personally but knew a lot about considering he was Catelyn’s little brother. Edmure had been a prisoner for years alongside Roslin and their son, but when Arya had massacred the Frey’s, he was free again and he had taken his mantle at Riverrun. The last communication he had received from the man had been that Roslin had given birth to their second son that they had named after the Blackfish. At least the Tully line wasn’t going to go extinct, which was less of a headache for him and his wife. Much of the Northern Houses had done so, and many were on the brink of doing so due to there not being anyone able to carry on the name.

The third one came from Casterly Rock, which surprised him a little. He'd thought the castle had been abandoned but apparently not. The surname of the woman who sent it having his insides boil. Genna Frey, Tywin's younger sister and wife to Emmon Frey. The only male Frey that Arya had let go when she had slaughtered them. He'd expected it to be from Tyrion but he hadn't seen the man in a few weeks now, seemingly disappearing from existence when he found his siblings bodies. She had sworn to them which had him sighing in relief. The next came from the Reach, Moryn Tyrell. The elderly goodbrother of Olenna. With the main branch being burned in wildfire and much of the secondary branch being so too, it left them looking to the last branch. The man's heir had been dead for a few years, but he had a son named Theodore. 

They confirmed they would be coming to Dragonstone to swear themselves, but this wouldn't go well. Secondary branches can be seen as good, but tertiary branches? The Tyrell's hold on the Reach was already weak, meaning the best bet would probably be to name a new Paramount. But who could fill the role? Jon massaged his temples a little and opening the final raven there was, wholly expecting to see who had written it. So when he saw that it hadn't been written by Robyn Arryn and was instead written by Yohn Royce, he had been shocked. Especially as the man had signed it off as 'Acting Lord of the Vale'. Was he standing in as a regent for the younger? Possibly, but Robyn wasn't a young boy anymore. Maybe only a year younger than Arya was. Something had happened, and his gut coiled tightly within him as he tried to think on what it could be.

A loud sigh left him at this before figuring out how long it would take them to get here. Probably no more than ten days which gave him time to prepare. He’d had a few meetings as King and they’d gone decently, but he was still very much learning the ropes. Northern politics were considerably different to southern politics, and he had no choice but to learn quickly otherwise he is going to be chewed up and spat out in the ocean. At least he was a quick learner, and he was confident in his leadership abilities. In time, he hoped he would be considered good. A gentle knocking on the door was heard and he asked whoever it was to come in, a large smile coming on to his face as little Sam ran in, Samwell and Gilly not far behind. 

“You got time in amongst Kingly duties to speak to friends, your Grace?”

He scowled lightly at his friends words.

“Why do I feel you’re going to rub that in every chance you get, Sam?”

“Because I am.”

He went quiet for a few seconds before snorting in amusement. 

“What brings you both here?”

Both sat down in front of him, their son looking around the room in awe. They all cared deeply for the inquisitive little boy, so much so he had gone to the extent to make sure Gilly was protected and allowing his friend to take in her child. 

“A few things actually.”

His brows met in the middle for a split second before filing away the paperwork he had been working through. He knew Sam wasn’t going to do anything with it, but he didn’t want to take any chances with it either. 

“As you’ll already know, Gilly is with child.”

He nodded at this, noticing the woman was cradling her very small bump. It wasn’t noticeable unless looking for it, and a part of him hoped Dany was with child even if they wouldn’t know for certain for a couple of weeks. If she was, he was going to spoil them completely rotten. He’d done so with his siblings when they were kids but a child of his own? Something he never thought he would have? Gods, if five and ten name-day him could see four and twenty name-day him now. 

“Well, I’ve heard you openly speak on how difficult it is to be what you are even if you actually weren’t. I don’t want that kind of life for my child so-“

“You’re asking permission to wed. But you’re still tied to your oaths.”

Sam simply nodded at this, noticing his hands were clasped tightly. There wasn’t much need for a Night’s Watch anymore. The dead had been defeated. Many did go there because they wouldn’t be able to do anything, but some were sentenced to go there. He’d need to get all survivors and discuss what to do with them. But it was an easy decision for Sam. Quickly writing out a decree that freed him of his vows.

“I was going to do so anyway. You’re the last male of your line Sam, House Tarly relies on you. I know you want to be a Maester but the Citadel are a bit behind when it comes to women and are stricter with their vows than many other orders. But we do have an Archmaester who I’ve heard from people is looking for an acolyte.”

He trailed off after this, watching his friends face brighten immediately. 

“I’ll have Marwyn come to your room later tonight. He’s been busy examining the dragons and I doubt he’ll appear until they disappear to their nest in the volcano.”

Little Sam walked over to him now, noticing the crown placed on the table, picking it up to stare at it in awe. This caused them all to chuckle at his antics. 

“I’m planning on sending a raven to my mother and sister, try and come to an arrangement. My sister liked Gilly well enough and my mother seemed to, but she is good at hiding her true feelings. I thought if you perhaps added a seal or two she’d be more inclined to listen. She probably won’t take to Daenerys well considering the obvious.”

Jon winced a little as what he was insinuating came to fruition. Daenerys had burned Randyll and Dickon alive. He understood why she done so, because they betrayed their liege and aligned with the Lannister’s in an attempt to overthrow the Tyrell’s. And he knew one thing for certain, a mother would kill people who dared harm her children. 

“Write the raven for your mother, I’ll sign and seal it for you. If need be, I’ll mediate between you all. I’m surprised you aren’t bitter about it anymore?”

Sam looked down at this, Gilly giving him a soft smile in reassurance. He hadn’t been there when he had found out what happened to his father and brother. Dany had gone to thank him for saving Jorah and in turn was told she had killed two immediate members of his family.

“Truthfully, I was bitter at first. So much was happening and I didn’t take it well. It wasn’t my father that hurt most, you of all people know what happened between me and him. He threatened to kill me if I didn’t take the black. I don’t remember much of my little brother as he was a few years younger than me, but I do remember him shadowing my father often. It wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out like him.”

“But he was still your brother.”

The other man nodded. Clearly he had come to him as out of anyone, Jon knew what he was currently going through. Suddenly, the little boy stood up and pretended to swing a sword, Jon only noticing now he’d placed the crown atop his head, causing him to let out a loud laugh. It was huge on him, practically sitting on his nose and covering his ears. Gilly scolded him lightly as he took it off and put it on the wood again. 

“When is it she’ll be back? I need to know what happened that day. I’ve only spoken to her a couple of times but she doesn’t seem that brutal. I need closure, and it’s something I need to tell my mother and sister when I next see them.”

It was comical it was right then he heard a loud roar. He’d gotten accustomed with them enough now to tell which dragon it was.

“That would be her.”

All stood up and left the room, Gilly taking her sons hand and racing him down the hallway. Leaving the two previous black brother’s.

“Imagine what Pyp or Grenn would say if they saw us?”

“Pyp would think it was a mummery of some form and smash his head against a wall and Grenn would piss himself laughing at the irony.”

The other couldn’t even argue with that assessment, because that is exactly how they would react. Alas, both had been lost in the battle against the Wildling’s years before. Pyp with an arrow in his neck and Grenn taken down stopping a giant. A part of him wanted to find members of their families to alert them to what they had done and that they had long redeemed their sins. Lips twitching slightly as he remembered why Pyp was at Castle Black. He’d put it as steeling a wheel of cheese for his starving sister but it had really been a Lord taking advantage of him and threatening to kill his family’s family if he told anyone. 

“Do you know what surprises me most? Aemon was born here. Had lived through numerous wars whether that be the one Robert started, the Ninepenny Kings or the Blackfyre rebellions. How many people can say in this shit world old age was what got them?”

Very few, but he didn’t say this aloud.

“I wonder if he knew. If he did he never said anything about it.”

“I think he had an inkling on you being his blood, but I don’t think he knew with certainty. I remember one time like it were yesterday where he said there's nothing worse than a Targaryen alone in the world and you walked in right at that moment, and he looked at you and smiled brightly. I also transcribed a few ravens he'd had sent during that war."

This calmed him down massively. It was something that ebbed deep within his gut that the elderly man likely thought he was alone. Remembering the time where he had figured out who he was and how important he was. Gods, he was almost made King, but he was so rigid with his Maester vows that he refused it and handed it to his little brother. That very person being his twice great-grandfather. Dany had sat down with him not long ago after finding a book in the library which detailed all of their ancestors from the time Aenar had landed on Dragonstone after fleeing from Valyria due to his daughters prophetic visions. They were outside now, the white sandy beach a welcome sight to the pair of them. For a long time, they had accepted that the only thing they would see was snow and ice. Drogon was flying towards the volcano now and soon his wife and sister were walking towards them. Arya was practically jumping in excitement, knowing she had loved every moment of being on dragonback. If she'd had any Valyrian blood in her, he knew she would never be off a dragon. 

"How did it go? Did you find out who paid the fee?"

Without warning, Arya jumped on to him, only his quick reflexes catching her before he knew what was going on exactly. Her burying her head into the crook of his neck. She jumped down a moment later before looking to the ground.

"Cersei did. When she sent Euron to hire the Golden Company, she also sent him to them and made an order that if they were to fall and Daenerys was still alive, they were to carry out the task. I've added all of us to the book so we don't need to worry about any Faceless Man coming after us again."

"How much was the contract?"

Dany now wrapped her arms around his neck, him wrapping his own around her lower back to pull her close. He'd not see her for a few days and he couldn't deny he was delighted to see her again. Silver curls tickling his nose as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her forehead.

"One point five. Surprisingly low for a ruler I've got to say. And it was paid upfront so you don't need to worry about extra debt on top of the monstrous amount you've taken on."

"Your Grace, may I speak to you in private?"

Dany removed herself from their embrace as she eyed Samwell. Looking at the pair of them was almost comical. Sam being tall yet overweight, Dany being tiny and an even slender body.

"Of course we can, Sam. Follow me."

With that, both walked away, leaving just Jon and Arya.

"So what was it like being atop Drogon? He's quite a bit wilder than Rhaegal as you know."

He wasn't even looking at her, but he knew she was pretty much vibrating from the adrenaline rush.

"He's fast, freakishly so. We were in Braavos in less than two days and it takes weeks to get there by ship. She even had him doing loops and everything which I'll admit scared the fuck out of me but it's an experience I'll never forget."

Jon's eyes trailed up to the volcano, seeing them chasing one another around it. Probably seeing who could race around it the fastest. A small chuckle leaving him. He remembered seeing Viserion doing that with Rhaegal when he was looking out over the sea when he had first came to Dragonstone. Viserion’s death was always going to weight heavily on him as it was his stupid mission that ended in the dragon falling with a well calculated throw of a spear made of pure crystal. 

“No, being atop a dragon is an experience one can never forget. There are only two in the world. Marwyn believes it is possible for them to switch gender if needed to carry eggs. It’s something we’ll need to wait and see on though.


	18. Daenerys V

The talk with Sam had been both awkward and a relief all in the one. For someone who had done so much for her, had saved the life of her most trusted man when everyone else just said to leave him to die. Of how he talked with Jorah whilst taking off the Grey Scale that apparently covered much of his body about his father and what had happened to him. She remembered the numerous times in the Dothraki Sea and in Slaver's Bay when he talked of how much he looked up to his father and how he would bitterly regret doing what he did for his whole life. But then she'd had a run in with Randyll and Dickon, and everything went quiet, remembering the quiet rage on the other man's face when she had told him.

Despite this, he remained level headed with her, and she remained level headed with him. Answered all questions he had to the best of her ability. By the end of it all, he had spilled the very reason he had been exiled to the Night's Watch anyway. To say her blood boiled at the thought was an understatement. She'd lost a babe, but threatening to kill ones own babe because they weren't what you wanted them to be? He spoke of how Dickon teased him over his weight often and how it was really only his mother and sister who doted on him, the small smile on his face confirming this was indeed the case. 

Daenerys learned a lot about the man Jon had spent almost every day with since he was six and ten and Sam was eight and ten. Two people so different from one another, yet two people who clicked like apple and cinnamon. Jon had protected him from people in the Watch, had downright threatened some with Ghost which stunned her because Jon was not the kind of person to go threatening people so brazenly. And one that tore her heart apart. She knew the basics of how Houses were interlinked in Westeros but she didn't know much on it as she didn't have the luxury of education other than what Viserys and other people told her about. She was shocked when she found out that Stannis of all people was to an extent his uncle, and Shireen had been his little cousin. 

Melessa Tarly was Selyse Baratheon's younger sister. It made her curious to find out who else was linked via family, and she put it to the back of her mind to ask Maester Pylos about at a later date. She cannot run numerous Kingdom's if she doesn't know the numerous familial links other than the most obvious ones. When they had left the cave they had met in, both had a massive weight lifted from them. Doubting he would trust her any time soon, but was no longer blaming her for what had befallen his family. But she couldn't deny she was a little angry when he said how Jon had released him from his vows so he could wed Gilly. It wasn't that she would not have done the same, it was that they had agreed to do these things together. 

A loud roar caught Dany's attention as she spotted Drogon and Rhaegal racing one another through the sky, occasionally weaving through clouds to confuse the other, and it made her smile brightly. Naturally, people were scared of them, but seeing them just playing was helping them. There was no way there was going to be another Dragon Pit, dragons were fire made flesh, and they were meant to be free. Once she was back at the castle, she asked where Jon was, getting a small chuckle that he was sparring with Arya. Now this was something she needed to see. She'd saw them do so on the ship sailing from Kings Landing to Dragonstone, but had only caught the tail end of it. 

A few people were looking on at the spectacle, but when they spotted her they cleared a path. Arya was a devil when it came to swordplay, frighteningly quick that when she blinked she was sure she had to have swung at least three times. Her husband on the other hand, the only word that came to her mind when seeing him sparring was graceful. Each movement lasting a second at most but clearly had a lot of thought put into it because Arya was struggling to fight. Dany might not know much about fighting, had literally held a sword twice in her life. Once in an adrenaline filled moment surrounded by the dead and once when she took Robett Glover's head from his shoulders. It became obvious the younger female was trying to use her height and stature to her advantage, but Jon just seemed to know what she was going to be doing before she seemed to know herself.

If it were anyone but Arya, she would've thought they were deliberately allowing Jon to remain on the upper hand due to being King. But the single fact it was his wild baby sister, she knew this was not the case. From the little she had known her, she knew she hated decorum and if she could get away with it would live in rags and run riot everywhere. She spotted a few faces in the crowd. Gendry, Grey Worm, Brodo, and much to her surprise a certain redhead. Sansa would be on a ship heading for White Harbour the following day and they had granted her the chance to walk freely for the day. A loud crash snapped her head around and a large smile came onto her face when she spotted Arya splayed on the ground, her sword a couple of metres from her and Jon holding Longclaw at her throat with a laugh on his lips. People began to file away now and she made her way over, seeing him reach a hand out to help her but she refused and instead stomped off in a huff. Clearly annoyed about being beaten.

"I'm surprised it wasn't a draw again, you seem quite evenly matched."

He sheathed the sword again before looping an arm around her back, both making their way to their own room in preparation for Tycho Nestoris arriving. Whilst in the cave with Sam, she had spotted the sails that confirmed there was a ship from Braavos coming their way and it could only be one. The man would probably be here within the hour. 

"It was even until a certain blacksmith appeared."

Confusion came onto her face at this, wondering what that meant.

"Gendry? How-"

"She loves him, doesn't want to admit to it though. And he's the same."

If she had been drinking something, she was sure she would've spat it out at that. Now that was something she did not see coming, and from the amused expression on his face, knew he was the same. 

“But they barely know-“

“That’s what I thought but apparently not. They’ve known one another for years.”

The remainder of their journey he quickly filled her in on what the blacksmith turned Lord Paramount had told him not long before. Their own chambers now in view as they entered. This room meant so much for their family. The exact same room Aegon I had resided in prior to his campaign to unite the Kingdom’s of Westeros into one under one ruler instead of multiple like it had been for hundreds- possibly thousands of years. 

“Ravens came from Paramount’s.”

Her eyebrows creased a little as she noticed the way his voice had dipped. Something he done when he was either feeling like he had failed or was confused. So which one was it? Three held good news, and they knew the Stormland’s were bending due to the legitimisation of Gendry to carry on the Baratheon line. It wouldn’t be long before he had betrothal requests coming from all over. But two caused her to hiss a little. Arianne’s calmed her somewhat, but it was glaringly obvious she didn’t want to support Jon. However, there was a very good reason for that. To most of Dorne, Jon was a symbol of a spurned Princess who was going to be Queen as were her children. But upon reading the one from the Vale, she had a feeling.

“Isn’t Robyn of an age to not have a regent?”

“Aye, he is. He’s eight and ten, only a little more than a year younger than Arya. Two years above the minimum. Something has happened, and it must be big to have a Royce standing in as Acting Lord of the Vale.”

Daenerys looked around the room, seeing the dark red curtains surrounding the mahogany and ivory bed, with numerous furs for blankets, and a huge bookcase surrounding the furniture in question. 

“At least the Vale is relatively close to us. Runestone is on the coast is it not? And near Gulltown?”

He nodded at her words, scanning along the numerous books aligned on the shelves and taking one down, opening it up. Realising this documented the placements of all castles and towns in Westeros.

“I found this when you were asleep a few days ago. It’s dated prior to when the Painted Table was commissioned. Possibly the original rulers taking notes on where everything was.”

Stunned. That was a word that came to her mind. Fingers trailing along it, seeing just how intricately each page was designed. Each one showcasing one Kingdom and even notes on who held each castle. 

“If the winds are good, it will take him around six days maximum to arrive. Arianne will probably be about the same. The others will be a few days after this as they’re further out.”

She watched as he massaged his fingers into his temples, clearly stressed over everything, and she knew how to ease the tension. Walking over to him and untying his trousers. 

“Dany, we’re expecting a visit-“

“He won’t be here for another forty minutes or so. We’ve got time.”

Immediately, his dark grey eyes flashed and she saw a small hint of purple there she hadn’t noticed before. Him picking her up and placing her on the bed, removing her clothes quickly but taking care not to rip them apart. The seamstresses were beginning to get annoyed with the amount of torn clothing they were having to repair every other day from their antics. Eyes trailing to his scarred torso, hands moving to the most lethal one there was. He took a knife in the heart for his people. How many people would do something like that? Very few, that much she knew. Everyone is selfish to an extent. She got lost in her thoughts for a moment but came back to reality as he pushed her legs apart and thrust deep into her. Back arching against his chest at the sheer sensation.

She was never going to get used to this. Ever. Drogo had always been rough when they coupled, even when they started to care for one another. And Daario was decent in bed but nothing special. But Jon though, there was no doubts he was a skilled lover. Lips conjoined and tongues danced together, all whilst he was lazily thrusting into her at a devilishly slow pace. Her walls tightening around his cock which caused him to still in his movements for a second each time, trying not to spill right away like a little boy. She placed a leg over his hip intending to flip them but he gripped her knees by hooking his elbows around her to stop her doing so and giving her such a deep glare she felt as though he was staring directly into her soul. 

He paused for a few seconds and shifted his position slightly, attaching his lips to the patch of skin below her ear and sucking to bring blood to the surface. Dany had wholly expected for him to continue with his soft movements so to say she was shocked when he lifted her just slightly and began snapping his hips forward in a rhythm she hadn’t experienced before would’ve been an understatement. Each time she could feel him hitting her womb, her body clenching harder around him more then previously. Her arms moving to his toned back and nails beginning to rake down there, probably breaking skin but she didn’t care right now. Trying to pinpoint if she had ever been fucked this hard before. A shaky sigh left her as she felt that familiar knotting sensation in her lower abdomen, knowing she wasn’t going to last much longer. And from the way her husbands face was contorting in on itself, she knew he was the same.

Only a minute or so passed before he finally stilled, his seed spilling within. This was what caused her to tip over and she was soon shaking in sheer ecstasy. Both were covered in sweat now, but neither of them cared about that. When he finally pulled himself free from her, her core ached in a way it hadn’t before, but it was an ache she wanted to get used to. Both quickly cleaning up to look presentable before pulling their clothes on once again. It was good timing too as a maid knocked on the door confirming a ship from Braavos had docked. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

The way he had said that caused her to snort a little, knowing he did not want to do this. But if they’re going to rule as equals then they need to do these things together. A part of her was happy they weren’t meeting in Braavos because she didn’t doubt they wouldn’t show their authority there. According to Davos when they asked about the man they would be dealing with, they had made them wait for days before granting them an audience. If there’s one thing she knew with certainty, it was definitely that she had a patience that was nonexistent. Or maybe that was the dragon within her, they were known for short tempers. Both were seated in one of the many meeting rooms, on chairs designed to look like thrones. The current one was being reworked by builders as it was only made for one person. 

The room they were in was incredibly ornate. With glass falling from the ceiling with dozens of candles within to give an ambient glow. Bright purple curtains made from silk with silver trimming covered in black lace which she could tell immediately was Myrish. Even the table was inlaid with rubies- the stone that was synonymous with their House. She had to bite back a laugh as Jon mumbled under his breath about wearing a crown but he still placed it on, making sure it was secure against his brow. She didn’t mind wearing one, but it was obvious to anyone paying attention he hated doing so. Heck, he even hated wearing his hair down as it got in the way. A few servants walked in carrying a few trays of food and a few bottles of wine as well, seeing one of ice wine. She’d tried it once before, when she had been living under the care of Magister Illyrio. It was very bitter but had a very refreshing aftertaste, and was the most commonly consumed drink by those higher up in the Free Cities. 

The doors opened now, two guards escorting a well dressed man into the room. They both stood to welcome their guest as she took in his attire. Wearing a bright red shirt, plain black trousers, and a golden cloak which trailed along the ground as he walked. Numerous pieces of jewellery adorning him and spotting a few piercings alongside a tattoo on his chest which was slightly exposed. Said things were not common in Westeros and she cast a small glance to her husband but he remained stoic. But she knew he was wondering what this was. The mans hair was as black as night but there were a few golden streaks throughout which must’ve been dye as it seemed to sparkle when the light hit it. He was carrying a couple of books which likely had all his notes held within, and she couldn’t deny nerves were eating her up inside. Cersei had paid off the crowns debt already, but there wasn’t much on whether she took out other loans other than one yet. 

“Please, sit. Help yourself to food and drink.”

For someone who normally hated formal meetings, he sure was good at it. He kept his tone chirpy and welcoming, not stuttering once as he did so. Tycho lowering himself on to the chair directly in front of them as he helped himself to some Dornish red, taking a few slices of cheese as he done so. 

“Thank you for the invite, your Graces. We were awaiting for the raven to arrive inviting us here on behalf of our bank.”

Daenerys knew that much. The Iron Bank always gets its due, and they knew wars were incredibly expensive. Any chance to better their wealth and they would flock to it. Growing richer and richer as days went on. 

“We have heard a lot about you. I believe you spoke to our Hand a few years prior. Although at the time he was Hand to Lord Stannis.”

She watched as he smiled a little, swirling the drink in his glass before taking a small sip, lips smacking lightly to decide if he enjoyed the beverage or not. He must’ve as he took a longer sip after this.

“The Onion Knight? Quite a talker that man, very persuasive.”

Clearly, he was trying to antagonise them, but she wasn’t going to allow this to happen. 

“We are aware the previous debt was paid off. We sent a missive to discuss any other loans that were taken by Cersei Lannister in her short stint as Queen-“

“One of the best customers we have had. Not many people will pay off a debt as such in full.”

Jon’s hands clenched under the table, she could feel his lower body tense slightly but she simply clasped her own palm over his and running a thumb over the calloused skin. 

“Were you made aware how she was able to do so? She sacked the richest castle in Westeros, killed many inhabitants whilst she was doing so, and emptied their treasuries. Therefore to an extent, the Iron Bank owe that money back to the Tyrell’s of Highgarden and not the other way around.”

He paused for a second at this, lips curling in ever so slightly over what she had just implied. Honeyed words get a person much farther than straight talk. A threat was a threat, and they had to tread carefully now.

“We are aware of a loan of forty thousand to hire the Golden Company. A waste if you ask us considering they were beaten in the span of a few minutes. Would you be kind enough to confirm the terms of said agreements alongside any others?”

Now, she was biting her tongue. Jon’s shortness coming to the surface now. She watched as Tycho took one of his books and rifled through every page, clearly trying to irritate them by making them wait. Eventually, he stopped at a page and slid it over the table, his hand reaching for ice wine whilst he was at it alongside a small kidney pie. Biting into it and juices flowing down his chin as he done so which he delicately patted away with a piece of linen. They read it all in detail, doing the calculations in their head as they went. A further two were taken out. One for two-hundred-thousand, and another for twenty thousand. But the latter shocked her massively as she saw what she was going to use it for. Second Sons. She didn’t think much on it though before working out the interest on it all, the figure coming out to just under four hundred thousand. That they could definitely work with. People had accounted the gold they had found and confirmed there was approximately seven million. 

“Which types of payment plans are you willing to consider?”

Dany watched as Tycho’s lip curled up slightly, clearing having a figure in mind. Now comes the haggling, something she was very good at considering she’d had to do so for years whilst living on the streets.

“We will accept half paid upfront, and the remainder paid in instalments with a twenty percent interest over the course of three years.”

Jon froze beside her for a second at this, not expecting such a brazen response. Not many people would have the gall to go up to a King or a Queen and speak like this never mind both. Despite them not being visible, she could feel Drogon was nearby, and if he was nearby Rhaegal also was. 

“We reject this. I have spoken with my husband and we have a counter offer. We will pay half of it off in one sitting, and the remainder we will pay in two years with an interest of twelve percent.”

Satisfaction gripped her as he tilted his head in anger, clearly not expecting such a blatant refusal. It was a decent offer he made, but they need as much of it as possible so they can account for how much it will take to start rebuilding the capital whilst also making sure there is enough to keep the remaining Kingdom’s afloat. Which was not an easy task.

“I shall accept half of the debt paid, and will allow the interest to be twelve percent if paid over five years instead of three.”

Now, it was obvious. He didn’t want the debt paid at all. He wanted to string them along to get more money out of them. It was how they always remained in power, how they were almost untouchable. Many banks had failed to stand the test of time, the Rogare’s coming to mind now. One their ancestors had owned but fell into administration a few hundred years in.

“Two years, and thirteen percent.”

Her words were short and clipped, directly to the point. She was not allowing him to win. Despite Jon not saying anything, she could tell he was enjoying this byplay massively. 

“Half paid in full, the remainder paid off in instalments over four years with a fifteen percent interest. Final offer, your Graces.”

Inside, she was jumping in joy. That was the figure they had agreed with their accountants on. Not many people knew the key to haggling. Always start low and work up to where one wants to be. That way all sides are happy and the opponent doesn’t feel wholly defeated. Nodding a little to one of the remaining guards to ready a chest and to fill it out to the agreed amount.

“Deal. Draw up the contract.”


	19. Jaehaerys VII

It was a day he was dreading. Even more so than being coronated. Due to his humble beginnings, he had never had the luxury of having to be at the front of a celebration of any kind. Always tucked into the back corner with the watchful eye of Lady Catelyn. There were times where he wished she were still alive so he could go up to her and tell her to his face he never was a stain on her honour. Her face would be something he would like to have framed. Alas, one of the Frey's Arya had killed had given her a bloody smile from ear to ear. From Sansa's ramblings as she had been in the immediate onslaught, it had been cut directly through to the bone. 

But today, they were expecting the first of the top tier Houses to arrive. The sun and spear of the Martell's being sighted near Driftmark which was only an hour or so away from Dragonstone, and the dots and runes of the Royce's. His gut gnawing away inside at this. Had Robyn died? If so, how did he do so? According to his eldest sister he was incredibly spoiled- something that was encouraged by his mother. But all it takes is a reality check, remembering the one Jeor and Benjen had given him when he first went to the Wall and was complaining about there being no worthy opponents. From then on, he had been incredibly helpful and put his skills to good use. Something which clearly worked as he's now the King. 

A title he had never wanted, but one he had to take to prevent further complications down the line. Word was now out about him being not only legitimate but the legitimate son of a crowned Prince meaning he technically is first in line and Daenerys is second. She was the one who had ruled before, had setbacks and been knocked down and every time she got back up more determined than ever. Whereas he did not have that luxury. Aye, he had been a King before, but being the King was something else. It's been weeks now, and not a day goes by where he doesn't doubt himself. 

"I'll deal with Arianne. She'll be just as angry with me as she will be you after what Quentyn did."

He hissed a little at this, remembering what had happened. The older Martell brother heading to Meereen to seek an alliance with Daenerys who had just fled on Drogon during the harpy attack in Daznak's pit. Of how he had then had the wonderful idea to walk over to fully grown dragons thinking he could claim one due to having a blood link. He'd found out the hard way as he'd been nothing but ash moments later. 

"I'll deal with Yohn then. That way we can kill two birds with one stone."

She simply nodded from beside him, looking around the room they were currently in. The throne had been carved to now seat two people and not just one, but carvers were still working on mirroring the intricate designs that was carved into the black stone. 

"We need to do something else too."

She gave him an inquisitive look at this, beginning to walk outside to the stairs which led down to one of the many beaches of Dragonstone. The only difference being this one was strictly private, so they had it all to themselves other than a couple of guards. Once he was certain there would be no prying ears, he spoke.

"We need to go around all the castles and holdfasts and release the prisoners of war."

She opened her mouth about to speak but he squeezed her hand a little.

“Of course some hostages will need to be kept to keep some people in line. But those who have been held hostage to better a House’s position in the most recent wars? It’s not their fault they’re being used as pawns. There’s been non stop wars for years now.”

Slowly, she closed her mouth, letting his words sink in. Clearly realising that what he said made sense.

“We also need to form a council, and see about a Kingsguard- or whatever in seven hells we’re going to call it considering we’re doing this equally.”

Jon kicked a rock on the beach a little, noticing one that was flat with a slightly curved edge. Taking aim and throwing it at the water, watching it bounce up and down before disappearing under the water. Dany picked one up too and tried to do so as well, but failed miserably. Her lips making an awkward pout which caused him to chuckle deeply. Quickly scanning for more rocks that would be good for this kind of thing.

“You’ve never skipped rocks before?”

She shook her head at this.

“I’ve seen people doing it, but I’ve never done it myself. We couldn’t draw much attention to ourselves for obvious reasons.”

Immediately, he felt bad about reminding her about it. He’d thought he’d had a hard life, but hers was much harder. Had previously needed to sleep on the streets through storms whilst constantly on the run from assassins and starving from lack of food to top it all off. It was something Marwyn believed to be a possibility as to how she was so short, a lack of nutrients for a body to grow normally. Valyrian’s were known to be tall people, but they were the opposite of this. But he probably got his height from his mother, the few people he’d spoken to who had known Lyanna all said she had been very short. 

“Why don’t we have both? I don’t like the idea of having guards following us everywhere we go, but it’s something we are going to need. If we stick to the original format, then we’d really only have three each and one to rotate between or to be the one they all report to as a Lord Commander. Have both a Kingsguard and a Queensguard, seven each.”

She hummed a little before biting her tongue, flicking her wrist and watching the rock skip once on the surface before disappearing. It wasn’t that impressive but seeing the way her face lit up in glee that she’d done it was something he loved to see on her. Not many people get to see the not serious side of Daenerys, and he counted himself incredibly lucky to be one of the few who had seen her like this. Except he’s the lucky man who gets to call her his wife. 

“Your moonblood is due in a few days, isn’t it?”

Slowly, she nodded, looking to the ground for a moment. The last few days she had been complaining about bad cramps and her breasts had been extra tender recently. He wasn’t dumb, he knew symptoms of pregnancy considering he had witnessed multiple of them.

“It’s due in three days I believe, but I’m not holding my hopes out. Even if I am, there’s a high chance I could birth a stillborn or not carry to term. My mother had numerous failed pregnancies, but only three of us survived into adulthood.”

“Does it feel the same as your first?”

Jon watched as some tears entered her eyes, remembering her son she had lost when she was six and ten. Not that young of an age by Westerosi standards, apparently Queen Rhaella had only been four and ten when she had birthed his father. 

“Somewhat, but I’m also not feeling sick upon seeing food. But then again, there are only two things the Dothraki have in abundance. Weapons, and horses. There really is only so much horse meat someone can eat before they feel ill just at the thought of it.”

He grimaced a little. He’d never tried horse meat, but he imagined it wasn’t that pleasant. It only felt like a moment had passed before Grey Worm appeared, confirming the ships had docked. Both King and Queen nodded to him before making their way to the harbour to meet them. A few people stopped to talk to them which they done with clipped sentences, both being nervous wrecks over the coming talks. He’d thought he’d been nervous dealing with Tycho Nestoris but this was something else entirely. At lest he somewhat knew Yohn, he had visited Winterfell a couple of times when he was young and he had been there when the Vale Knights rallied to their cause to take back his families home. 

Their guards surrounded them now, effectively cutting them off from those who were trying to get close to them. Not because they didn’t want to interact with their people, but because the events that had happened were so recent it was too risky to not be on high alert. The Martell ship was further down the harbour which he was glad about, he’d rather not see Arianne straight away. He’d never met her, but he was always going to be seen as a slight to the Dornish because Elia had been set aside. Documents had been found confirming that she had agreed to the annulment, but the Dornish are just as prickly as Northerners in their pride. Once an idea is in their head, it’s not changing for a very long time. 

“Lord Yohn, it is wonderful to see you again.”

Jon cast his gaze to in front of him to see him walking forwards, with one of his own guards nearby.

“Thank you for the invite your Graces, certain things have come to light that need to be addressed hence why I have come myself and Lord Robyn has not.”

His words calmed him immediately. At least Robyn was still alive, the last thing they need is another House going extinct. Almost a dozen already have now, and more will be following soon due to there being a lack of male heirs to carry on the line. Something that was going to cause problems very soon. But it’s not at the forefront of their goals currently.

“I must admit, my Lord, your raven did set us on edge. Would you care for some food and drink and we can discuss this matter personally?”

He’d practised his words for days on this, trying to make it sound not demanding. And from the way the older mans head nodded lightly in respect, he began heading towards the castle. Jon didn’t speak once until they were within his own solar, signalling for a maid to bring up food and drink. 

“Your Grace, I have a question that has been on my mind for a while. My son Waymar, I received missives that he had gone missing. Did you ever find out anything about it?”

The King bit his lip as the maid appeared with a tray of cured meats, multiple fruits, some bread, and a flask of ale. Knowing it was his preferred drink. Quickly pouring himself a glass and taking a sip, thinking of how to put this across.

“Waymar was missing before I arrived, unfortunately. But one of the companions with him deserted, I was there when Lord Eddard took his head. If what he spoke was truth and I’ve no reason to say it is not, then they were caught in the onslaught of a Walker. There’s a very high chance he was turned as no body was ever found. I apologise, my Lord.”

Yohn let out a shaky breath at this before nodding quietly. Deep down, he probably knew what had befallen his son, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“Now, you said certain things came to light. Would you care to explain?”

This was something he was dreading massively. It must be something big if he had signed a raven off as Acting Lord Paramount. Possibly other Vale House’s banding together after seeing Robyn was not that capable. He couldn’t blame the boy, it wasn’t his fault his mother kept him attached to her skirts for much of his life. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small leather bound book, sliding it across the table.

“A servant found this in what was Lady Lysa’s room, hidden away. If she didn’t trip up and knock it over it wouldn’t have been found. It’s a personal diary. I believe it’s on the fifteenth page, my King.”

Jon’s eyebrows creased a little in confusion, not liking how vague the man was being. Still, he opened it to the page in question to read the neat cursive handwriting. On the first read, it didn’t hit him. But on the second read, it came into perspective. Cursing lightly under his breath before staring at the man in genuine shock.

“Robyn isn’t an Arryn?”

“It appears not, your Grace. The servant took it to him and he read it thoroughly. He misses his mother deeply and he wanted to have a piece of her. Instead he found out that Lord Jon Arryn was not his father and it was Lord Petyr Baelish all along. He’s not taking the news well. We haven’t made it knowledge yet, I only know as I was there when he found out. House Arryn is extinct.”

The silence that followed could’ve been pierced with a knife by a toddler. That was how still everything was. His mouth had opened slightly as he desperately tried to scramble in his brain for what to do in this situation. He of all people knows what it was like to find out your whole life was a lie, and he sympathised with Robyn- Stone was it now? Yes, that was the bastard name to those born in the Vale. 

“Who is the next of kin for said House?”

“That would be Harrold Hardyng. Great nephew to Lord Jon. It was written that in the case Lord Robyn were to pass with no issue, he would take the Arryn name to carry on the line. But the only way I can put this is, he’s a little hotheaded.”

In other words he was a conceited prick. The Royce’s were much like the Stark’s considering they were proud to claim their heritage from the First Men. Hence them still decorating their armour with ancient runes. He’d never learned how to read them but Tormund had taken great joy in reading them aloud to him in Winterfell. 

“I’m guessing you’ve taken on the mantle as a temporary regent until a solution is figured out, then?”

The man nodded.

“It was the only thing I could think of. I was going to foster him for a couple of years to have him come into his own. His mother shielded him for much of his life, and kept him out of harms way. Admirable for a mother to do so, but she was overboard with it. He can’t even hit a target with an arrow.”

Now, he hissed. That was someone that was going to be ridiculed if they secretly legitimised him. The last thing they needed was a weak Lord Paramount.

“I shall speak to my wife later this afternoon on the predicament my Lord. Once we’ve got some ideas, we will send for you to have you bring them to both Robyn and Harrold.”

The Lord nodded in acceptance at this before asking to be shown his rooms for the few days he would be remaining here. The younger’s head now in a frenzy over what he had just learned. So much for hoping no more House’s go extinct. One of the oldest had now done just that. He made his way to his own chambers and promptly sat on the bed, squeezing his nose with his fingers desperately trying not to scream in frustration. It seemed that every problem that was solved, another appeared. A never ending cycle. But this one might just be catastrophic. It didn’t take long for Daenerys to appear, her face having an irritated look on it confirming her talk with Arianne had not gone too well either. 

“How did it go?”

He stood up and walked over to the window, watching the waves crash against the rocky shore. 

“We’ve got a massive storm on our hands. Read page fifteen of this. A servant found it in the room Lady Lysa Arryn occupied.”

From the concerned look adorning her violet eyes, she knew it had to be bad. Taking the small book off him and reading the page in question. Unlike him, it sunk in for her immediately as she promptly dropped it and let out a loud curse.

“House Arryn is extinct. If we don’t tread carefully with this, it’s going to be a civil war in the Vale. Gods, I’ve never met Robyn but I feel terrible for him right now as I know what he’s going through but in the opposite way. I went from being a bastard to a bloody King and he’s going from being a Lord Paramount to a bastard.”

Daenerys reached up to pinch her nose too, letting out a short yell of frustration. This would make a mess look neat. And it had to happen now that the master politician was no longer on Dragonstone and was on her way to White Harbour. Now, he wished he’d had her wait until all the Paramount’s had arrived to swear their fealty.

“How did it go with Princess Arianne?”

She rolled her eyes a little but it was clear she was still reeling with this new development. Probably thinking over numerous scenarios in her head and trying to figure out which one would be best in the long run.

“She doesn’t blame me for Quentyn thankfully. But she’s still very against you being in power. But she’s willing to speak to you with guards if needed to try and come to an understanding. Heck, she’ll never consider you a friend but whether she likes it or not you are her King now. Therefore, she needs to show you respect, and the Dornish are just as stubborn as Northerners in who they give their respect too. I know that well enough considering it was only when I took Robbet’s head that they started seeing me as something other than the Mad King’s daughter.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do. His blood siblings had been the woman’s cousins. And she had lost cousins supporting House Targaryen through Ellaria. And she was the last of the Martell’s. Another House due for extinction unless some strings can be pulled to keep the line going. But now, he cannot allow pettiness to take over nor grudges over something out of his control considering he hadn’t even been born yet.

“I shall meet with her tomorrow after breaking our fast.”


	20. Jaehaerys VIII

To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had the upper hand between them in having the most experience in dealing with nobles, but dealing with one that for good reason despised him despite never having met him was something else. He'd grown up with the knowledge of the Martell brothers. Of how Oberyn was fierce and brash whereas Doran was cold and calculating. And if the mans daughter and only remaining child were like him then he was screwed. 

He'd barely slept the night prior, had even got up just as the sun was beginning to rise to sit down at the desk in their room to watch it slowly break on the Narrow Sea. From being a pale yellow in the dark to becoming a burnt orange and finally emerging and basking the outside in blazing sunlight. He must've been there for hours, but it had only felt like a few moments. Dany woke up not long after the first tendrils of light landed on her face, her silver hair splayed out on the pillows and one of her arms hanging off the edge of the bed. Jon had long gotten used to her sleeping in weird positions considering she seemed to be in a new one every morning, but it still amused him greatly. 

"How long have you been awake?"

He turned to face her as she rose from the sheets and stretched her arms and cracking her neck and back whilst she was at it. 

"Since the sun started to rise."

Her eyebrows met in the middle at this and she opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead getting off the bed and making her way to her closet to pick a dress out for the day. The news given to them still spinning in their minds, and none of them knowing what to do. They already had a mess on their hands but this was only tangling it up even more and slowly creating a maze. A maze they needed to find a solution to because if they didn't there would be a civil war in the Vale. Desperately wracking his brain for anyone who may know Harrold Hardyng so he could get a better idea on the man. Not that he didn't trust Yohn Royce, but it was better to have multiple perspectives in these things. 

"Shall we head down then? Or shall we just send for someone to bring food here and we can break our fasts in peace?"

As much as the second one seemed pleasant, they now have an image to maintain.

"If Arianne Martell and Yohn Royce weren't here, I would've been happy in breaking my fast in here. But we need to keep up appearances. The previous few rulers were known for neglecting their people and if we want to change things, we need to show we do."

A small smile formed on her as she pulled on the deep purple dress- almost indigo. With pale blue patterns incorporated that every time a step was taken it seemed to change colour. After a few moments, she walked over to him and pulling her hair over her shoulder, his fingers working to lace it up for her. 

"When was the last time you didn't wear a braid for any kind of function?"

By now, his fingers were massaging into a tight muscle right where her shoulder met her neck, her moaning in pleasure as the tightness faded slowly. 

"I'm actually not sure. How come?"

Jon shrugged a little at this, her understanding he was trying to change the topic with random commentary to keep his mind preoccupied over his nerves on his talk with Arianne. From some people, they found out that five of Oberyn's daughters were still alive, but all carried the name of Sand. To him, being a bastard wasn't a big thing, he knew what it was like to be one even if the tables turned miraculously on him. There have been multiple times where he had to stop what he was doing and remember he never had been one. When this happened, a small surge of anger always enveloped him because he had trusted the man he had called father his whole life, and he had lied to him for his whole life. Aye, it kept him safe and for that he would always be eternally grateful, but it still weighed down on him on occasion.

He had already gotten dressed for the day. Wearing black everything apart from some grey designs etched into the fabric. After seeing the clothing Laenora had made for them for their wedding, it wasn't a difficult decision to hire the woman. So she had been given her own quarters within the castle alongside her daughters whom she worked with. Her sons had long since left home and had families of their own but came to visit whenever they had the chance. With that thought, both made their way down into the dining hall. Numerous tables aligned up and the head table separating them from everyone else. 

The sight immediately made him feel like a little boy in Winterfell again. Sitting at the edge in amongst squires and stable hands, watching the rest of the family seated there. Now, only he and Arya sat there, although she did so reluctantly. Remembering fondly the time where she had thrown a blood orange at Sansa which left a deep red stain on her dress. Things were so simple then, but he had to admit seeing the distasteful look on Cersei Lannister's face that day was hilarious. Trust Arya to be the one to not conform to etiquette in the presence of a royal. That was something that had never changed, and it was something he hoped never would change. 

The winds had been kind recently, that much he knew. Hence why it was easy to guess that Sansa would probably be nearing the Fingers right now, would be at White Harbour in a couple of days. He was far from forgiving her- perhaps he never would forgive her. But pack stays together, and she is still pack. Plus, he was now indebted to her because she had saved Dany's life. A new High Septon was due to be chosen soon after the Silent Sister's had done what they could with the current one. They never even knew his name, only that his predecessor was called Maynard. The very one who had wed his parents to one another and granted an annulment to his father's marriage to Elia. He'd sent a raven to the Citadel asking if there were any records from Elia on the matter, but all they found was that she agreed with it. But not if there were any terms that came with it or anything. Something which would've helped massively with speaking to the woman's niece. Alas, he wasn't getting that.

Both happily gorged on some oats with numerous fruits, alongside some bacon and blood sausage. When Daenerys had first heard of the latter, she had screwed her face up in disgust that anyone would eat crusty pigs blood. But after trying it once, she never spoke about it again. Simply began talking about delicacies she had come across in Essos whether that be candied locusts, snails, to fruits that were poisonous if not prepared in a very specific way. His eyes scanned the tables for any sight of the Dornish woman but no one that matched her description was there. Possibly still asleep as it was still early in the day, or possibly familiarising herself with the castle.

They spoke to a few guests, some still a little jittery around them due to their House, but nowhere near as bad as it had been before. Many people had left now after the festivities- even if it almost ended in disaster. At least there was one less threat against them which was a massive relief due to Arya's link. Never did he think he would be thankful for her relations with the Faceless Men of Braavos. They'd grown up being taught by Maester Luwin who done an entire topic on them and their abilities. To think his little sister technically was one was unimaginable. But it seems everything that was unimaginable was now imaginable. 

"We need to get experienced builders, plumbers, and accountants in. Get an accurate figure for the reconstruction of the capital. Although, I have to admit I don't want to leave here. But I don't feel like I want to rule from here either."

Jon hummed a little at her words before they swiftly made their way towards the Maester's quarters to have ravens sent to do just that. 

"Honestly, I don't want to rule from Kings Landing either. And if we don't fund another Red Keep, that'll allow us to have more to spend on things that are needed."

Dany didn't say anything, but the silence was all the confirmation needed she felt the same. Where they would rule from would be the place they would call home. And to both of them, Kings Landing would never be a home. So much had happened to them there that the thought was preposterous. They knocked gently on the door before entering, seeing the Maester seated at his desk with a quill in his hand and writing down on a piece of parchment. He stopped what he was doing as he spotted them, immediately placing the quill down and straightening his back as a mark of respect.

"How can I assist, your Graces?"

Even now, hearing himself being referred to as that was weird. It's something he is going to need to get used to because whether he likes it or not, he is the ruler. 

"Maester Pylos, we would request for you to send ravens to as many builders, accountants, plumbers, and anyone else who can help in the reconstruction. The more we have, the sooner we can get to work on building people's home's again and ensuring the city isn't wholly destroyed. Would you be able to do this?"

Jon watched as his eyes widened slightly, not knowing what he was shocked over. Pylos was younger than the average Maester- perhaps in his thirties- and this allowed them to easily gain his trust. It's easier to convince the younger generation of change than it is to convince those stuck in their ways. Something they knew well considering there had been a lot of resistance to change already. 

"We will also need missives to be sent to insurers, traders, smiths, and designers. Find out their rates, if they are willing to temporarily relocate to help, and ask for them to bring estimate figures."

It was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded in acceptance and pulled out some more parchment, dipping his quill into dark blue ink. 

“I shall get to work on this right away.”

Both nodded before leaving, walking around the castle with not much words, trying to stall time. But they couldn’t do so for long because then Arianne will certainly take slight and that is the last thing needed. They need to talk about the whole situation regarding Robyn and Harrold, political issues with Dorne do not need to be added to the list. Therefore, after nearing an hour, they asked for one of the guards to fetch the Princess to have her be escorted to Jon’s personal solar. His stomach felt like he had butterflies desperately trying to escape, but the sooner this talk is over, the better. He made sure to ask a maid to get the finest bottle of Dornish red there was, her running away at the order. 

It wasn’t long before Dany broke apart from him when they reached the room in question, her leaning up to give him a soft kiss before stating she was going to speak to Arya to get her insight on the problem with her cousin. The worst thing about it was that they couldn’t even legitimise him as an Arryn without a strong reason considering he had no Arryn blood in him. At least, not that he knew of. If there was, it had been a very long time ago. And another member of House Baelish being around would be a sour taste to most people. The maid soon arrived with two large flagons alongside two ornate glasses. Myrish glass with gold wrapped around the bottom in the shape of a dragons claw. It wasn’t long before the door opened, Grey Worm stood there with a Dornish woman beside him. 

“Princess Arianne, please come in.”

Jon gave the Unsullied commander a look, silently asking him to leave. Him doing so reluctantly. They weren’t sworn to him, they were sworn to Daenerys. But that would be changing soon. He took in the woman now, noting she was a few years older than him. With a small face, sharp features, black eyes, black curls coming down to her hips where the top half was braided down to keep it from her face. There was no denying she was beautiful, but if she was beautiful, Dany was a goddess. Her lips were in a tight line but she kept her face relatively still, something he was still learning now considering he had not been groomed with courtly mannerisms like his siblings had been. That was something he hated about the way he was hidden, but at least he was a quick learner.

“I am surprised the Queen is not here.”

If there was one thing he did know, it was how words were used. Words and body language were always the biggest teller of a person. And the way she had said that confirmed what Dany had said. 

“My wife is currently seeking an audience with my younger cousin.”

It felt weird to call Arya his cousin, but he wasn’t going to call her sister in front of someone his own siblings had shared blood with. At least there was a slight boon their way courtesy of the feisty female. She had gotten Jaqen to kill Amory Lorch. Who was if reports were true, the one who had stabbed his sister half a hundred times. Gods, how terrified must she have been? Had he given her mercy by killing her instantly and then rained havoc on her tiny body or had he deliberately hit places which would prolong her suffering? As much as he hoped it was the former, the latter was more likely from a Lannister man.

“Princess, my wife and I do not keep things from one another. I am fully aware you refuse to acknowledge me as your King, and you have good reason for that. More than probably anyone in Westeros. However, I am, whether you like it or not. Luckily, I am someone who does not take offence to someone not calling me by my titles.”

He watched as her eyes widened for a split second before returning. Reaching out to take one of the flagons and filling up her glass, sniffing it curiously before taking a timid sip. He proceeded to do the same, still not accustomed to the sweet but bitter taste that was common with wine. 

“All my father wanted was revenge for his sister, niece, and nephew. If he knew what occurred after, he would be unbelievably angry. He worked hard to have our blood better ourselves-“

“Please read this raven, Princess, I believe this will allow you to see your aunt was not dishonoured in any way.”

She closed her mouth now and stiffened in insult at being cut off but she was not stupid, so she did not say anything. Gently taking the parchment which had yellowed massively with age, but the ink was still legible. The one they had found where Elia had given consent for his parents to wed and for an annulment to take place. 

“I am aware consent was given. But my aunt was still set aside. This is shameful across Westeros. Meaning a lot of people would not consider her as a good suitor, and she would’ve been seen as weak in the Red Keep as she would simply be the mother of the future King. Except, she never got that opportunity. Due to Rhaegar running off with Lyanna and them not telling anyone, it was an opportunity for the Lannister’s to make their move. They then killed them all. Do you know what they did to them, Jaehaerys?”

He had not expected her to call him by his given name. Had wholly expected for her to call him Jon to insult him. But they were adults, one a King and the other a Princess, there was no need for childhood taunts or pettiness.

“I am well aware. My uncle did go into detail on it with us all. Of how Tywin sent the Mountain after Aegon who wasn’t even one name-day old yet and Amory Lorch after Rhaenys. Of how she was stabbed half a hundred times after being dragged from under our father’s bed, of how Aegon had been thrown against a wall in front of his mother. Where he then attacked and raped her before splitting her in half with his sword. Where all were then wrapped in Lannister red and presented to Robert Baratheon who called them nought but Dragonspawn. This then led to the infamous fight between my uncle and Robert as he was horrified by the act. I do know my history.”

The last part of his words had a bite to them, and he realised his fingers had curled into a tight fist, quickly uncurling them and letting out a deep breath.

“I will say, my father was placated when your uncle stood up for what was right in that moment. The butchering of women and babes should never occur. But unlike you, I was there when it all happened. I watched as my father broke down in tears when the raven came, when my uncle began throwing numerous objects around in rage. Of my other cousins being equally angry as they watched their father react like this. You will never know-“

“No, I won’t. But I will tell you what really happened. My parents did send out ravens to tell people, but someone by the name of Petyr Baelish with a wounded pride shot them all down. He done so because he knew it would then look like kidnap and that my other uncle would go into a rage and demand my father’s head which would get him executed for treason on the spot, as a result, leaving him open to marry his beloved Catelyn. But it spiralled out of control and by the time Eddard found out, it was already too late. My father’s chest crushed in with a spiked war hammer, my siblings butchered like they were pigs, my mother bleeding to death after birthing me. As much as it angers me, what happened did happen. But I will tell you this, it was my cousin Arya who had Amory Lorch killed. She has not disclosed how he was, but I am sure if you were to ask her she would be happy to tell you. Her reputation is quite known now.”

Threats were something he almost never spoke aloud. But he needs to have Arianne acknowledge him as her King. He did not expect for her to respect him, but she does need to accept it. And to do so, he needed to knock her down a peg which he had just done. What Arya had been doing whilst she was believed to have been dead was becoming a ripple effect through the Kingdom’s. Not that she minded, because it meant people were scared of her which then meant she was left alone to her own devices.

“If my brother or my sister for that matter survived, I happily wouldn’t have even considered taking a crown. Hell, I didn’t want one to begin with but thanks to Varys sending letters out confirming my parentage I needed to act fast to stop another war occurring. Kings Landing is a ruin, nearing a dozen Houses have gone extinct and many more are due to do so as well as I’m sure you are aware, Princess. But the people who caused that war five and twenty years ago are now all dead, nothing will change that as much as we wish it were not the case.”

She had finished her glass by this point, sitting back and analysing his features in detail. It felt like hours had gone by before she reached a hand out for him to take. No words needed to be spoken to understand what this signified. She was willing to accept him, and this calmed him massively.


	21. Daenerys VI

It had seemed like she had blinked and everything around her had changed. Which in a way, it had. From a young age, she had gotten it into her head she would eventually go home from spending so much time with Viserys as for a long time it was only them. They had no one else at the time other than Ser Willem who passed from sickness when she was young. But now, she was in a place that she probably should've considered home, and it startled her that it didn't. Granted, she was glad to have a place to actually live that was her own and not going from place to place begging for shelter like she'd had to do when she was a child. 

Dragonstone was where her family had really took off, so why did it not feel like home to her? Now that Daenerys thought on it, the only place she had gotten close to that kind of feeling was the large house in Braavos she had lived in. The one with the large red door into a courtyard, and the lemon tree who's fruits grew only an arms reach from her bedroom window. Remembering when she would reach over and pluck the ripe fruit from the branches, peeling them, and covering them in sugar and eating them. Many people looked at her as weird for being able to eat them on their own, but to her they were delicious. 

She'd gone years without ever seeing a lemon when the house burned down, and the next time she had she had made sure to savour every last morsel. Even boiling the skin in water with a little sugar she had managed to find. It hadn't taken Jon long to figure out her affinity for them, and he had outdone himself this morning. Daenerys had woken up to a whole bucket of them beside her bed, the scent wafting into her nose and having her remember times where she had not a care in the world other than climbing trees and dancing in a courtyard in the rain. It rarely rained in Braavos, and on the occasions it did, she loved it. Just cool enough that it refreshed oneself in the blistering heat, hair sticking to the sides of her face, and even tasting some of the raindrops that fell by tilting her head back. 

It had been a few days since her husband had spoken to Arianne Martell, and the remaining Paramount's had arrived the day prior. It had been a little strange between Jon and Edmure considering they did share a kinship through marriage to one another, and he had been worried he would take badly to him considering everything that had happened to the man. It had been awkward at first, but they seemed to get along, both having similar personalities with a quick temper but being genuinely nice. It was rare to find someone who was such in this shit world they lived in.

Her husband was not in the room when she had awoke, but he did leave her a scribbled note on some parchment that he was flying to the Eyrie to speak to Robyn and Harrold. They had talked for days on the matter, always coming to a dead end. If they legitimised Robyn and the truth came out, it would cause war. If they named Harrold people would query why they did not name Robyn, which would also potentially cause a war. She'd spoken to Arya who confirmed she had never met him before herself, but Sansa had confided to her that his mother kept him under her skirts and even fed him at her breast until he was two and ten. The thought of that alone had her stomach twisting in horrible positions. 

After arguing for two days on it, they gave in to their stubbornness on solving it themselves and brought Davos into it. The man was finally back on his feet again after being given the all clear from Marwyn, although he did have to lean heavily on a cane to do so. It had been a rather horrific break the man received- it was a miracle in itself he didn't lose the limb in question. He had been shocked when they told him and they mapped out all possibilities, and the day prior one was agreed upon. Hence why Jon was heading for the Eyrie to present it to both Robyn and Harrold to see if they agreed. Robyn's illegitimacy would not be confirmed, and he would go as Arryn. For five years, he would foster under Lord Yohn to learn the ropes. In that time, Lord Harrold would take over. And once Robyn had completed his tenure at Runestone, he would take the position of Lord Paramount still but Harrold would be Lord of the Eyrie. 

This would be solidified through children and marriages like most alliances. Matches had not yet been agreed upon though, as they would need confirmation from both if they accepted this solution. If Harrold had a son within those five years, they would carry the name Arryn, and if he had more than one, all others would be Hardyng. If Robyn had any in that time, they would carry the name too. And if Harrold had a daughter and Robyn a son in those years, she would be wed to a son of Robyn's. Thus solidifying the line. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was the better option they had and they couldn't think of anything better. 

Daenerys finally pulled herself out of bed and pulled on a pale yellow dress, tying her hair back in a single braid down the middle. Then she leaned down to grab one of the lemons, breathing in the sour scent and reminiscing on her childhood. Peeling back the flesh and taking a bite. She closed her eyes for a moment before running to a chamber pot and coughing it back up. A vile taste now at the back of her throat as she frantically looked for some water to get rid of it. She heaved a few times before spotting a glass of water at the other side of the bed, running over to it and guzzling it down in one go. Once she had finished, her face contorted in on itself before eyeing the lemons oddly. Never had a lemon made her puke before. Never. 

“Are you okay?”

Head snapping around to the voice before calming at seeing Arya, the younger with a concerned expression on her face. 

“Lemon made me throw up, all good.”

“I thought you loved lemons?”

Dany rolled her eyes a little in annoyance before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I do, but I’d barely swallowed it before it came back up-“

Then the gut feeling sank in for her, realisation kicking in. Pulling back the covers expecting to see red but there was nothing. Her moonblood had not come, it had been a few days late. Eyes widening as she walked over to a looking glass and pulling the dress tight around her, and noticing she looked a little more bloated than usual. No, surely not.

“Daenerys?”

“Send for Maester Pylos now.”

Arya paused for a moment at the urgency in her tone, but she obeyed the order and left the room. Hand coming up to her mouth as her eyes started to well up. She’d been complaining about bad cramps and her breasts being tender. Now she couldn’t hold down food she loved and she looked like she had gained weight. Something she hadn’t done for years. In fact, she’s pretty sure the last time she did was when Illyrio took her and her brother in off the streets. She’d gorged for weeks when that had happened, trying things she’d never tried. It certainly was better than rats which they had resorted to on the worst days. It wasn’t long before the older entered the room, with a slightly panicked expression on his face, Arya beside him doing exactly the same. Her palm resting underneath her naval and looking to the area in question. No words needed to be said, him understanding immediately what she was silently saying. 

Pylos asked her to lie on the bed so he could examine her. It felt odd having to take off the top part of her dress and having someone she barely knew see her like this, and clearly her goodsister found how uncomfortable she was funny as she was snickering in amusement. This only amplifying as Daenerys shot her a look. Wincing slightly as his palm pressed around before nodding lightly to himself.

“I guess congratulations are in order, your Grace. I’d say you were just under a moon.”

There it was. Confirmation. Ever since whatever it was that came out of her, it had been something she had hoped for. But it was something she also didn’t dare hope for after what had happened with Rhaego. That was something she was going to bitterly regret for the rest of her life. Remembering her vision in the House of the Undying of Drogo cradling their son in his arms with a soft smile on his face. It was something she never saw on him. Rhaego with his fathers tanned skin, bright violet eyes that matched her own, and his ebony hair streaked with silver. 

“What was that about?”

Dany snapped out of her thoughts as she realised Pylos was no longer in the room, moving to tie her dress up again and burning in embarrassment Arya had saw her like that. Although the younger didn’t seem to care much, just staring at her in a very unnerving way awaiting a response.

“I’m with child.”

Saying the words aloud only made it seem more real and before she knew it, she was crying. Ugly sobs falling down her cheeks at a rapid pace, vision becoming blurry within seconds. It wasn’t long before she felt two frighteningly strong arms wrapping around her. For someone who was so skinny, it was surprising just how much strength the younger possessed. 

“How are you going to tell him? Speaking of which, where is my brother? It’s not like him to not make an appearance all day.”

Daenerys snorted a little at Arya’s words.

“He flew to the Eyrie this morning at dawn. We got to an arrangement which may work with the situation in the Vale. He’s running it by both Robyn and Harrold to see if they agree with it. He should be back by nightfall.”

“How is he going to get to the Vale in- oh wait, Rhaegal. I forget how fast they are.”

A small snort left her now before beginning to walk around the castle. In a matter of days, it was going to be incredibly busy. Pylos had received replies and as he had written to Duskendale and Driftmark, it wasn’t going to take long for people to arrive here. figures were going to be cracked down on, figuring how much they could manage without risking bankrupting the realm. The Tyrell gold was a good start, but if they weren’t careful with it, they would run out quickly. All it takes is one bad investment before losing it all. Something a lot of people knew, and now they were contracted with the Iron Bank meaning they could not risk it. They were notorious for funding the opponent if it meant getting their cut. 

“It’s weird thinking he has a dragon. I remember being kids with him and he’d sit and read me stories about them. He and Robb used to pretend to be Daemon and Aemond fighting over the Gods Eye. Gods, is that something I wish I could see.”

It amused her greatly that Jon used to play pretend being a Targaryen, yet he was one the whole time. That fight had gone down as one of the more brutal ones where if the stories were true- Daemon had jumped from Caraxes’ back to land on Vhagar, stabbing Aemond through the eye with Dark Sister before drowning upon hitting the lake below. 

“I’m surprised he did so and knew about that, he had to ask me something his namesake done-“

“Understandable. He only really listened in on the fighting side of it all and not everyday court life. He’d be able to tell you every single strategy used by one of your ancestors but ask him how many children one had or who was conspiring with who? Clueless on it. Although I’d imagine you’ve been lecturing him on it all.”

She’d never thought about it that way, but now she had, it made sense.

“Of course I have. He’s already pressured enough with taking on this mantle. All he ever wanted was a Holdfast of his own and to support your brother Robb no matter what. Yet Robb was killed at your uncle’s wedding of all things and Jon is King. I still have to stop and take a breath that I’m Queen, and I was actively going for it. He’s only here because Varys done what he done.”

“He wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for Sansa telling Tyrion.”

Arya’s words were low, and laced with anger still. A tone she had used with the redhead before but the morning that she was to set sail, she had sat down with the woman and told her everything. Remembering the shocked expression on Sansa’s face as she realised just how similar an upbringing they had. The only main difference was that Sansa always had a home to go to whereas Dany did not.

“Let the past be the past. She saved my life, and with what Pylos just confirmed, she also saved the life of my unborn babe. Like you said, only death can pay for life. She hoped I would die in the chaos that would come with the confirmation of Jon’s parentage and that Lyanna had not been kidnapped by my brother and in fact ran off with him, yet she stopped the assassin from succeeding by yelling to get down right as that knife flew over my head. In my eyes, she’s proven herself. Jon though, is a different story. Whilst I don’t know the northern customs well, I do know you hold your oaths in high regard. And you of all people know how serious my husband takes oaths.”

The younger didn’t have a retort to that. Everyone knew how serious Jon took his oaths. Many people had heard what had happened to him. Just thinking on the whole thing made her angry. Even more so when he confined it was a little boy who dealt the final blow, the very same boy who had apparently killed Ygritte in front of him. He didn’t talk much about her, but she was the same with Drogo. Deep down, a part of he was always going to love him deeply, and she knew he was the same with the wildling woman. People were running around to finish preparations considering the people due to arrive were going to be given their own quarters so they could always call on someone if a problem occurred. When Jon finally came back, the moon was high in the sky, Rhaegal’s emerald coloured scales blending in well if it weren’t for his bright golden eyes looking like torches in the night. He had his hair tied back and he stressfully ran a hand over his face.

“Did they agree?”

A loud sigh left him as he sat down on the bed, eyes widening slightly upon seeing all the lemons that were still there. Clearly he’d expected to come back to seeing an empty bucket.

“Aye, they did. I’ve already made Lord Yohn aware. I also spoke to Robyn myself on it as I know what he’s going through. Granted, in the opposite way, but I think he was glad to get it all off his chest to someone who understands what it’s like to find out your life was a lie.”

Daenerys let no expression coat her face, but inside she was delighted they had agreed with the solution. That solved one of their most difficult problems currently. Now there’s only a dozen or so more...

“I’m surprised none of those have been touched. I thought you would’ve gorged on them with how much you talk about your love for them.”

She cringed a little at this, and he noticed as he gave her a quizzical look. Wondering why she had reacted that way. Steadily, she walked over to him and took hold of his hands, placing them on her lower abdomen. For a few seconds, he was confused. But the second realisation hit, his entire face blossomed. He always had a stern expression on his ace, the weight of his responsibilities leaning heavy on him and it showed. But now, grey eyes were almost sparkling and a smile so wide his face looked like it had been split in two.

“Dany-“

“Maester Pylos thinks I’m just under a moon. You were right, Jon. I’m with child.”

The more she spoke, the more emotion overcame her. Him standing up and pulling her in for a tight hug. So hard her toes were barely touching the ground, toned arms holding her close against his chest. There were numerous times where she could say with certainty she was pleased. But right now? She was happy. Happier than she had been in a long time.


	22. Arya V

To say she was shocked that the news had not yet broken was an understatement. It had been a little more than a week since Daenerys had the realisation that she may be with babe, which the Maester confirmed minutes later. Normally, whenever there were any kinds of births of anyone high up there were feasts galore and constant celebrations. She got her answer soon though when she had pulled her goodsister to the side and asked why she wasn't saying anything. Arya knew a little about what she had gone through but not the whole extent, and it stunned her that she wanted to remain quiet because she didn't want everyone to be joyous over it as she feared she would not carry the child to term.

It was something that was common. Her own mother spoke often on how she had decided to come kicking and screaming a moon earlier than she was supposed to and how it had scared her massively. She rarely thought of her mother now, but every time she did she just kept seeing Grey Wind's head sewn on to Robb's body being paraded through a bunch of Frey men who were cheering. And as horrible as it was? It didn't surprise her it had happened. Breaking oaths is seen by many as one of the greatest sins there is, and going back on a sworn oath to someone who had a close tie to Tywin was stupid. Incredibly so. 

Yet she still missed them massively. Her father chasing after her in the halls and scuffing her hair like Jon did. Watching her on the battlements as she practised her archery and smiling fondly at her every time she hit the target, and when she managed a bullseye his soft yet powerful claps echoing throughout the courtyard. To running riot with Robb and playing pranks on everyone- roping Jon in on it on occasion. Remembering fondly the time they'd hid in the crypts covered in flour and jump scared both her and Sansa, to the time they'd stuffed mud in Ser Rodrik's shoes and snickering as he cursed up a storm. Her mother fussing over her and getting frustrated she refused to conform to becoming a Lady, yelling but being amused when she skipped her lessons to watch the boy's fight. She didn't remember Rickon much, he had been three the last time she had saw him. The little she did remember of him was his wild tendencies. If her mother thought she and Bran were bad, both of them combined were Rickon. 

At least she would get to see Bran again soon. He had sent them a message to confirm Sansa was in Winterfell again and he was immediately leaving. He'd likely be here in another week depending on how the seas fare. They'd been relatively calm recently which was a good thing. Not that one other person would make much of a difference, the castle seemed to be bursting at the seems now with how many people there were inside. People from all walks of life now roaming the walls, multiple ships heading to the coast to take them to and from the capital so they could get an accurate scope before working out the funding needed. 

It didn't take her long to volunteer to help. Out of them all, she and Jon were the best with their numbers. Robb wasn't far behind them, but they were considerably quicker at sums than most in Winterfell. Something that was now coming into good use. Getting average figures of materials, making decisions on what kinds to use. Some had come forward and said they'd lived in the richer part of the city where the houses were built from marble (something Arya doubted massively) and them asking to have one of the same. It only took moments for them to squash this suggestion and many of these people left sulking they didn't get their way. It astounded her how low some people would stoop to better themselves. Her mind wandering to her sister for a split second.

Daenerys had forgiven her after she had saved her life, and she could tell Jon was on the way to doing so too even though he'll try his best to deny it. He could never stay mad at either of them, even as children. But she was finding it difficult in her heart to do so. Arya had always struggled with trusting people after everything she had gone through and it took a long time for her to forgive. For a moment remembering Sandor. For so many years she had spoken his name alongside many others every single night before she fell asleep. Then she had ended up being his captor where she had slowly watched him change and eventually forming almost a fatherly bond with the man. Something she never thought she would experience again after hearing her father's head fall down the steps of the Sept of Baelor. Thank the gods that place is gone. 

"What's on your mind, my Lady?"

A scowl came onto her face as she shoved Gendry, him chuckling deeply in amusement. How did they end up here? She an assassin and sister to the King and he a Lord Paramount? A part of her desperately wanted to go to the Riverlands to seek out Hot Pie and surprise him, and she planned on bringing it up with Jon soon. Perhaps see if she could convince her old friend to become a cook here. She missed his pies the most, and even his bread despite the diabolical attempt to create loaves in the shape of direwolves when they left him behind so long ago.

"How in seven hells did we end up here?"

Just like that, the amused expression on his face was cleared as he spoke.

"My stepmother went crazy and killed hundreds of thousands to keep a throne that technically wasn't even my father's to begin with?"

Arya managed to keep her laughter in for about a minute but it wasn't long before she was. Trust Gendry to put it like that.

"It's mental thinking Cersei was your stepmother-"

"It's crazier thinking your brother and goodsister are technically cousins of mine. I went from having no family to having one, adding a fancy title to it at the same time. Heck, I can't even read. Davos swore he would teach me but my quarters are on the other side of the castle from his and I don't want to strain him out. It's not like I'm not busy considering I'm shadowing your brother in ruling."

She kicked a rock on the ground before adding a single comment.

"Better than being heir to the throne though, if Daenerys weren't with child you would've been their heir as the closest living kin."

A large laugh left her upon seeing the look of horror coat his face. Clearly he had never been made aware that was why Jon and Dany were having him shadow them as closely as he was. Eyes screwing shut and lips curling in to a tight line before letting out a deep breath.

"No thanks, I think I'll leave that to your brother. I doubt anyone would consider someone from Flea Bottom as an heir."

The pair walked around the castle for a little longer, keeping as much to the shadows as they could which she found easy considering it was something she had been trained to be an expert on. Footsteps as light as a feather and remaining slight against the walls in the shade. Shading wasn't difficult here though, considering the darkness of Dragonstone. Every single wall made of black stone and each carved intricately who knows how many centuries before. Much of the Freehold was lost in the Doom, meaning there weren't many accurate records on buildings, there being no way to accurately date the age of the castle. A loud roar catching her attention as she turned to look outside to see Rhaegal chasing after Drogon.

"Who would've thought dragons would be playful."

It was a thought that came to her mind often too. She didn't dare go close to either of them without Jon or Dany for obvious reasons, but she did admire them from afar. Remembering the sheer rush of adrenaline that left her when her brother had taken her up on his own. They might've not gone far, but it was an experience she would never forget. Feeling the wind rush through her hair, ears straining like they were about to pop, knees tightening against the scales to remain seated even though she knew Jon would never let her fall. Ever since she was a little girl she had tried to picture what it would be like to do so, but actually being in the air on one was so much better than she ever could've imagined. A gentle coughing from behind caught their attention, her face reddening massively upon seeing her brother. From the clothing he was wearing, she could tell he had just come from a meeting. Gendry removing his arm from her back and slowly backing away from the glare Jon was giving him. Once he was out of sight, Arya simply gave her brother a look.

"Seriously?"

To most people, the smirk he wore on his face would make them punch the other. And gods, did she want to, but that would definitely be overstepping a barrier with him now. Snorting a little in amusement upon seeing him with his crown swung on his arm.

"We need your help with something, I didn't just come here to scare off Gendry."

Upon hearing that, her ears perked up as she followed him into his solar, noticing the little changes they were making to the design of the place. It was all so dark, and some lighter colours were now adorning it so it was a little more inviting to people. There were two men seated alongside a woman that she had never met before now, Dany giving her a small smile when catching her eye. 

"Arya, this is Juniel, Paradek, and Maela. They are helping oversee the funding of everything. I believe you have some ideas for the reconstruction yourself that will come in useful?"

Her eyebrows creased a little at this. Whilst it was true that she knew the capital well, she didn't have many ideas that the others didn't have. Knowing immediately he was playing her, but what with? 

"We have scoped out the damages, my Lady. We have also salvaged much of the stone which will help bring the costs down. However, it is the tunnels that are causing concern. They were partially fortified already but with added weight of structures on top, it will be a miracle by the Seven if they do not immediately collapse."

Understanding blossomed through her now, seeing why they had asked her here. She knew the tunnels. Not well, but better than most considering she used to chase cats through them. Sadness welling up as she thought about Syrio. What would he think of her now? He had died to save her time to escape the city, a debt she had paid by killing Meryn Trant. 

"Really our best bet would either be fortifying them more, or closing them off completely. As in allowing them to cave in completely and have them be hills instead. But there is a little flaw with that logic being no one knows where all of them are. The only one who did was executed a few months ago for treason."

Out the corner of her eye, she spotted her goodsister stiffen ever so slightly. Arya had taken care not to mention Varys' name, but it was obvious who she meant. Jon clasping her hand tightly to calm her down. They all bit their lips at her words, knowing they had some merit to them. Their best bet would be to scope out as many as they could and find out where these were under and the exits to the city above. Or what remained of the city. She hadn't been back since they had come here, and a part of her didn't want to step foot in that shit smelling place ever again. Staring at the blackened walls from scorched stone- wait.

"How strong are Dragonstone's walls?"

From the way the others all quirked their heads to the side, it seemed she was the only one who was thinking this. 

"Molten stone is the strongest material known to man, my Lady-"

"And it came from melting stone with dragon flame, and there are two dragons. What if we were to use that to fortify the tunnels? Use the rubble to do so and get new materials in for the main construction?"

It went silent for a few moments as her words sunk in, clearly surprised no one had thought of that before. She spotted her brother giving her a small smile in pride and a part of her thought he had done this so people would see her as more than an assassin. 

"If we were going to do so, we'd need to do so on the beach because neither of them will fit. They're too large. But that would probably work. I'll head there within the hour to do a test batch-"

"Dany, you've barely slept the last few days. Rest, I'll go."

She watched as the Queen opened her mouth about to retort before burning red in embarrassment as they were in public right now. There was no doubt in Arya's mind that if they didn't remember this suddenly they would get into a fight like they were siblings. 

"A ship will take the three of you to the coast so you can run this by the others, I will join myself on the morrow for a test of this possible solution."

With that being said, all three left the room at the dismissal. Arya only noticing now they were wearing their crowns again, when did Jon put his back on? As much as he hated wearing the thing, she couldn't deny it looked good on him. Resting just above his brow and in a simple northern fashion but with a single ruby in the centre. Dany's was much more intricate than his was, with numerous stones inlaid on white gold which contrasted strongly against her silver hair. Noticing the older was pouting at her husband which amused Arya massively.

"Love, we agreed no strenuous activities until we know for certain the babe is okay. And I'm pretty certain dragon riding comes under as strenuous."

Violet eyes opened more as her lips tightened, clearly trying to have him break on his words, but it was no use as he simply chuckled at her expression before reaching up to tickle the back of her neck. Daenerys throwing her head back to lessen the space as a loud laugh left her. A wicked grin forming on the younger's face at this, taking note that she was clearly very ticklish there for future reference. She left not long after which left her alone with her brother who promptly reached up to take off the crown again.

"If you hate it that much why do you wear it?"

Jon huffed a little at her question.

"Because in the south it's expected to always look presentable. It's times like this I wish I was back in Winterfell."

She shook her head at his words. Even now, she hated southern views, but it was something she had to get used to now. 

"Have you guys put together a council yet? Or even managed to get a Kingsguard yet? You've been busy working to get everything running again but obstacles keep hitting you both."

"Nay, we haven't. Only Davos and Bran are definite. Tyrion possibly too but we've not seen nor heard from him in weeks. Dany thinks he tucked tail and went to Casterly Rock to see his siblings buried. As for guards, we're going to have seven each, and we're agreed on one from every Kingdom so it's equal. Well, excluding Dorne, but we've got a bit of a mess there considering there's one Martell left. Never mind the Reach. Don't get me wrong, Lord Moryn seems like a nice man and his grandchildren are too, but tertiary branches may cause some issues. It's rare for people so far down in succession take over everything, and it'll be obvious they won't know the ins and outs of everything as typically main branches keep to themselves-"

"But there are no members left of the main branch nor are there from the second branch."

He simply nodded his head at this, her own mind whirring in numerous directions as she thought everything over. 

"We've been talking about it for weeks, and we've agreed the best bet is to wed one of the remaining Tyrell's to another House and have that House take over as Lord Paramount's of the area. Therefore, there is still Tyrell blood in the succession which should hopefully placate Lord Moryn. He very much came across as someone who simply wants to keep his family safe and doesn't seem to scheme much. According to the man, he didn't get along too well with his goodsister."

No words could be spoken, words circling in her head like a carousel. Not much of it making a lot of sense to her. Politics was something she didn't have much of a head for, and it surprised her Jon had knowledge of it. Clearly his wife was helping him out, but there is no way she would allow someone else to take credit for something she suggested. 

"So, are you going to spill on Gendry? I can see you two are rather close, I need to know if I need to keep an eye on him-"

She smacked him at that, a deep laugh emanating from deep within his chest. No one was nearby to witness her doing so, and she had taken the opportunity.

"You do know it's a crime to strike a King-"

She smacked him again, his lips finally pulling apart in a massive grin at her antics.

"You'll always be Jon to me no matter what. Aye, you may be King, but first and foremost you're my older brother. And last I checked brother, I am twenty name-days. I'm not a little girl anymore as much as we wish that to be the case. As for Gendry, I don't know. I care for him deeply but you know I've never wanted anything like that."

Her voice cracked a little at the end. Deep down, she knew she loved the man, but she didn't want to admit it. She'd lost too many people she loved already. Jon seemed to notice her inner turmoil as he gently placed a hand over her own and squeezing tightly. It wasn't much, but to her it meant everything.


	23. Jaehaerys IX

Time both seemed to fly by and drag on at the same time, something he only ever really experienced whilst on the battlefield. Except, when he was on the battlefield he always knew it was going to end at some point. Whether that be him falling or walking out the other end victorious. It was strange to him knowing that this was his life now. Jon had gotten accustomed to waking up just as the sun was breaking on the horizon. Standing on the balcony that joined on to his and Dany's room which overlooked the sea as the sky turned from black to pale orange and then to numerous shades of pink and purple. Every day it looked different, and it was something he had grown to really enjoy.

In Winterfell, sunrises were something he had always enjoyed. But there was something about seeing them reflect on the calm waters that made it seem magical in a sense. As if his life didn't need any more magic in it. It had felt like he had simply blinked since Dany had told him she was with babe, and he was still coming to terms with it now. He had long made peace with the fact he would never marry nor would he ever have a child, how life likes to laugh at him. Now he's married to one of the most beautiful people in the world and with a child of his own on the way. A child that was a miracle to both parents. Some people were beginning to talk within the castle, noticing the way his wife always had a hand resting against the slightly swollen area. 

When he had found out, he had wanted to run around the castle screaming it aloud for everyone to hear. But he had respected her wishes on the matter on wanting to keep it quiet as she was rightfully terrified. For years she had been barren, had accepted the only children she would ever have would be Drogon and Rhaegal. Despite accepting he would be someone who would never father a child, he couldn't deny it was something he had always wanted. When all his siblings were born both he and Robb would coo over them all- well, when Catelyn wasn't around. He'd been thinking about her a lot as of late and he had no idea why he was doing so. She was dead, had been dead for years. But he couldn't deny how much he had wanted to look her directly in the eye and state he wasn't a stain on her honour at all.

Hence why it had gotten a little strange with Edmure just before he had left after publicly swearing fealty. The Catelyn he spoke of was decidedly different to the one he had grown up around, but the King had assured the Lord he didn't hate her for her treatment. It was difficult for him to do so, but many people were taught from a very young age that bastards are sinful and only out to better themselves and nothing else. The older wanted to apologise to his sister because she had been murdered at his wedding, but knowing he couldn't do so and having no one he could vent to other than his wife who wasn't even a part of it as she was held hostage by her father too.

What kind of a person holds their own child hostage? This was one of many times where he was glad he never had the misfortune of meeting Lord Walder Frey. At least the man had met a fitting end- albeit a rather gruesome one. He knew Arya was brutal but feeding someone's own kids to them in a pie was bordering barbaric. People applauded her for it, and if asked she was happy to go into morbid detail on it. From the way she had looked him dead in the eye as she told him exactly what he had been eating to the way his face went green as he tried to puke up what he had already consumed. It made him feel queasy just thinking on it.

"Something on your mind, brother?"

Jon jumped a little in fright before noticing he had made his way to the Weirwood. A young boy sat down on a chair with wheels right in front. It had been a few days since Bran had arrived on the rocky shores and the difference was striking. He'd only been reunited with his brother a year before and he had been met with someone who just looked and sounded like Bran. Yet there was a small sparkle in his eyes he'd not seen since before he had been pushed by Jaime out that damned tower. What had surprised him was that he had not come alone, a young Meera Reed alongside him. It didn't take Jon long to notice they cared deeply for one another and he couldn't help but muse to himself that it would be a good match. As a second son Bran was expected to marry a loyal vassal to his own House, and the Reed's had proven time and time again how loyal they were. Especially Howland considering he had kept silent on him for his entire life. 

"It doesn't seem real. I expect most mornings to wake up in a dark room at Castle Black still, it always takes a few seconds before it sinks in that this is my home now."

"Technically Kings Landing is your home."

His eye twitched a little but he kept his face relatively still, but a tiny grin did come on to his face when he saw his younger brother biting back a laugh.

"Kings Landing will never be my home. Dany doesn't feel like it is home to her either. But we've got a lot more pressing matters on our minds currently."

Bran moved forward slightly until he was closer to the Heart Tree, Jon remembering only a few weeks before standing in front of it as he watched his wife walk towards him to wed him. 

"Robyn has freed all his hostages, and both he and Harrold have given orders for every Vale House to do the same. Genna Lannister is currently doing so as well and Edmure is going to be working through the castles in the Riverlands to do so. I believe both he and Roslin are heading for the Twins first because there are hundreds there. You don't need to worry about Dorne either, as much as Arianne doesn't like you she does respect you."

"I'm planning on going with them to help clear them out. Gendry has already given the order for all hostages to be released in the Stormland's. Surprisingly they're taking to him rather well."

"Believe it or not, Jon, but Robert Baratheon wasn't always a fat whoring drunk. Many people in the Stormland's remember the man who became a Lord at a very young age after his father perished when his ship sank. And let me tell you, the few times I've looked into his youth, Gendry is his double. Much like you are a double of your mother. Come here, place your hand on the bark."

Jon's eyebrows creased a little as he stepped forward too, resting his fingertips against the white bark as he wondered what Bran was doing. A sharp tugging sensation making its way known into his gut which almost had him keeling over and then he felt his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

All around him were people. Stands numerous levels high and a large ground split by fencing. From the markings he could tell it was jousting, but where were they? His eyes scanning the people in the crowds before realisation sunk in. These were faces he knew, but they were faces multiple years younger than he remembered. There was a younger Jaime, and the woman beside him being a mirror of him confirming it was Cersei. Lips curling in a little. For someone that beautiful, she sure was horrid on the inside. Two others he immediately recognised, both built like bulls but one with a stern expression on his face. Robert and Stannis. He had to blink upon seeing the former, Gendry didn't half look like him at that age, sadness welling up in him as he looked at the younger of the pair. Jon had respected Stannis a lot, but the second he found out he'd had his own daughter sacrificed for his own quest for power stripped this completely away. 

But then two rows in particular caught his attention, and he had to pause. Four men and a young female in a row. All with long black hair and dark grey eyes much alike his own. The man he called father and his uncle had barely changed at all look wise, but the other three had him staring in complete awe. Of course, he'd seen their statues, but now more than ever he realised the stone carvers were shit. His grandfather looked exactly like Lord Eddard, but he had the same look of seriousness on his face as Stannis always wore. The man's heir an impressive height and with a massive smile on his face, making bets with those around him. The young woman though had him feeling like he was about to be sick. Bran was right, he did look like her. As did Arya. A thin yet long face, and very sharp features that was common in the North but not elsewhere. Wearing a deep grey gown adorned with delicate fur lining. 

He tore his gaze away from her and snapped his head to the other side. Seeing three people with silver-white hair. One a little boy that he knew had to be Viserys, hands curling over the fact that he would sell his little sister to a known rapist to get an army. The woman stood beside him looked exactly like her daughter but she had paler eyes- more lilac akin to violet. The man beside her causing him to wince. Hair coming down to his knees and fingernails an impressive length, bright violet eyes scanning the crowd. And it didn't miss his observant gaze that Rhaella was sitting as far away from him as she could on their seats. If they were here then-

A large cheer broke his musing as two people came charging in on their mounts, with lances under their arms preparing to strike. Both had helmets on so he couldn't see who it was but deep down he knew. This being amplified upon seeing the dragon embossed saddle one wore. Suddenly remembering his history lessons as understanding dawned on him exactly what Bran was showing him. This was when his father had crowned his mother Queen of Love and Beauty. Arguably the moment the rebellion started. Like expected, the other was unhorsed as arms were reached up to remove the helmet, a breath hitching in his throat. Jon had never gotten to see what his father had looked like, and looking at him now he understood why it was so easy to hide him for so many years. His silver locks following to his shoulders with the front scraped back like what he done himself, and looking a lot like Dany too. Nudging the heel of his black and red boots into his black stallion and dropping a crown of winter roses in Lyanna Stark's lap.

Everything started spinning and he had to reach out to touch the trunk to catch his breath. His mind spinning over what he had just saw. It was said the moment that happened all the smiles died, and surprisingly Bran pulled him out of it just before he could take in everyone's reactions to the move. Immediately feeling his stomach flip within like he were about to be sick but he managed to keep it in. Giving his brother a slightly disturbed look before making his way down the small pathway on to one of the many beaches. A few people were dotted around, some kids making sandcastles and some kicking others over as clearly they were having a competition of some kind. When they spotted him though, they all stopped what they were doing to stare at him in awe. It was something even now he was still getting used to despite it being months later. Although it did feel like yesterday he was leaving Winterfell with his own men. Then a young man walked over to him with a slightly giddy smile on his face. 

“Devan, how can I assist?”

Much like he had been doing with Gendry, he’d had his Hand’s son shadowing him on occasion. Whilst Jon knew what it felt like to be in a position of power when he wasn’t expected to be, it hit Devan harder. It’s incredibly rare for even a second son to inherit because the firstborn could not- and he was the fifth born. His older siblings all being casualties of wildfire. Or had they drowned? It was something he didn’t really want to know. At least if it was wildfire that killed his older siblings it would’ve been instantaneous. He had gotten trapped under a frozen lake and those couple of minutes where he was trying to swim to the opening he fell through was something he never wished he would experience ever again. 

“Your Grace, will you be accompanying us as we round up all the hostages in the castles?”

He stepped into line with him before nodding in confirmation. It hadn’t been a difficult decision to make. He knew a part of Dany wanted to go too, but someone had to remain to make sure everything was running correctly. In a matter of days, they would be finalising the construction plans and would begin rebuilding the capital. The test run they had done with the tunnels had been a roaring success and they had managed to find many of them. But there was no way to know with certainty if they had gotten them all as no one alive knew them all now, so they decided to completely avoid the areas they were unsure of. Kings Landing would be a similar size to what it had been before, but instead of being cramped into a small space, it would be more spread out. Each area being separated and all being separated by size of houses.

On the outermost areas were those big enough for a family of three or possibly four. In the next area would be the larger houses for those who had larger families. And in the centre of it all would be where businesses would be. No more streets dedicated solely to one specific trade, and allowed them to cut down on costs slightly. A second pair of footsteps echoed alongside a steady thud of a cane, knowing who it was. When did he even appear?”

“I want those going to free the hostages to round them up and bring them to Dragonstone. Since the Red Keep no longer stands after Cersei released the wildfire underneath the castle, we do not have the space to host them in Kings Landing.”

Davos simply nodded from beside him, agreeing with the young King’s words. Jon hadn’t known Davos for too long, but in the few years he had, the man had almost become like a father figure to him. It had been a massive honour to appoint him as his Hand. A position of such had to go to someone he trusted implicitly and there was no one he trusted more other than his family like he did Davos. He remembered how nervous he had been when he had asked, stating he didn’t feel like he was worthy of such an honour. Of how he had been a smuggler and talking about how he would be seen as nothing else. The only thing which solidified it, was when Jon had stated his wife and sons could move to Dragonstone whilst he was advising him.

“When is it Sansa is expected to arrive, your Grace?”

Jon simply rolled his eyes at this, noticing the small smirk on Davos’ face. He had felt bad about summoning her back here so soon after being sent away, but he wanted to tell her to her face that he was to become a father. 

“Ser, you do not need to refer to me by title. You knew me before I was even Lord Commander never mind King. We received her raven not long ago, so I’d assume she’ll be here in about a week, possibly a day or two more depending on the seas. Arya is already planning numerous pranks for her.”

A small cackle left him at this, still getting used to seeing them act like siblings and not as war-hardened people.

“How is your wife? Still throwing up most mornings?”

“Not this morning she didn’t, hopefully it’s not a hard pregnancy on her. If there’s one thing I hate it’s seeing her in pain and not being able to help in any way.”

The pair walked around the beach a bit more, Jon taking care to not walk as fast as he usually did because Davos was still recovering. Whilst he didn’t seem to be in any pain (probably that strange flower concoction Marwyn had that he had used on him when he was coming around), a single stumble could reverse whatever was done to help. Suddenly, a large thump caught his attention and he turned his head to see Rhaegal land a few metres from him, stretching his head over for petting. Jon chuckled a little to himself as he reached his hand out to scratch the snout of his dragon, Rhaegal purring loudly immediately at the touch. He’d grown a lot more since he had first come to the shores of Dragonstone, easily twenty feet. But he was still more than a head shorter than his brother. It wouldn’t surprise him if Drogon grew to be larger than Balerion had been. 

“What are you going to do with the hostages? Are you going to question them?”

The younger moved to the side of his dragon, Rhaegal lowering his wing to accept his rider. But he didn’t mount him just yet.

“Those who were simply imprisoned for cooperation, no. Those who were that done something but were too valuable to kill, yes. Those who still have family members alive shall be sent to them if their castle still stands. If it doesn’t, we will give them a choice of the unoccupied castles in the country. I doubt it will come to this though considering a lot of families are now extinct. The Greyjoy line will die out with Yara unless she has a son a legitimises him. The Tyrell’s are almost completely gone apart from the lowest branch. Frey’s are gone, few Lannister’s remain, Martell’s will be wiped out too unless we do something. Bran can’t have children meaning the Stark line will also die out, and numerous more.”

Just saying it aloud brought it all to the forefront again, the stress of everything getting to him once more. He’d gotten somewhat used to it by now, but there were times where it still hit him full force.

“It’ll get easier lad, you adapt well. Plus, you’ve been King before-“

“Of the North, Davos. Not of the other Kingdom’s. Although I suppose it’s good that I don’t need to do all the work myself. We’ve come to the agreement I deal with the high Lord’s whereas Dany will deal with the smallfolk, and we are going to split political together. I’ve been around high Lord’s since I was born, but she hadn’t been until she allied with Dorne and the Reach. At least people are starting to see her for who she is and not simply see her as her father’s daughter.”

There was a gentle breeze in the air which cut through the warmth of the south, something he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. They had talked recently about where they would rule from because neither wanted to do so from Kings Landing, but they didn’t want to do so from Dragonstone either. Perhaps Harrenhal due to its almost central location? It wouldn’t be for a long time though, right now they are happy remaining where they are.

“Have you put more thought into who you want as Kingsguard? Are you even going to have one?”

“Aye, we will. Both of us will have seven each, one from each Kingdom. We are undecided who will get the honour yet. It’s a good thing the Unsullied are so obedient which means we have some guards until a decision is made. Then again, people would be stupid to harm us with two fully grown dragons.”

“The Dothraki?”

Rhaegal was getting annoyed now, smacking his tail into the sand to catch his attention which caused both to laugh lightly.

“Dany gave them the option of going back to Essos if they so wished. Roughly half agreed to do so as they never acclimated well to here. Those who decided to stay are being taught the common tongue so they can integrate more freely. We’re thinking of giving them lands in the Reach due to the numerous open fields, possibly some in Dorne as well but unconfirmed. Anyway, I must leave you Ser as I do have a meeting to attend at midday and we will be leaving a few hours after this.”

With the thought in mind, Jon climbed on to Rhaegal’s back, looping his feet around two spikes like stirrups and a moment later he was in the sky flying towards the castle.


	24. Jaehaerys X

Being atop a dragon was a feeling he was never going to get used to, nor was it one he would ever tire of. Jon had always loved riding, used to race Robb and Theon when they were all young and foolish. Feeling a beast so powerful beneath oneself, having to keep as strong a grip as possible in case it got spooked. Feeling hair from the mane whipping against his face and the wind whistling by in his ears. Yet the first time he had mounted Rhaegal immediately blew that out of the water. There was something magical about looking down on the world from high in the clouds. The two activities were very similar. But instead of hair hitting against him, it was spikes resting against him to keep him seated. That was really the main difference between the two. Well, apart from being hundreds of feet in the air.

The first couple of times he had ridden his dragon, he had been clumsy to put it lightly. Not knowing a good position so he would not fall off the back of him. And he couldn't even ask Daenerys considering Drogon had much less spikes than Rhaegal did. However, on his third time doing so, he had figured out that if he sat at a specific angle, he could wedge his body between two rows of spikes, effectively acting as a harness for him. The wind was spinning by him at a dizzying speed as he done a quick circuit of the island before turning towards the castle as he had one meeting to attend to with his wife before he would be heading off to help free hostages.

When they had brought up doing so, a lot of people had scorned them and ranted on how it kept people in check. But all were effectively shut up when a dark green dragon appeared right behind him and he simply quirked an eyebrow at them. Jon wasn't stupid, he knew there were people still mumbling about it, but none of them dared to do so openly. It was a known thing to not piss off someone who had a dragon, history had proven that time and time again. Eventually, he placed the heel of his palm against his mount, Rhaegal obeying the command and lowering towards the upper courtyard. A minute later they had landed and he had to squeeze his knees against the scales to prevent himself from being thrown at the sheer force before swinging his leg around and climbing down until he was on solid ground again. Reaching out to pet him before making his way inside to get dressed. 

He'd always been a little bit vain, but even for him having to be presentable every single day was a bit much. Simply pulling his raven curls back to keep them from his face and pulling on a dark red tunic and black leather trousers with scale designs on them. Taking his crown as an afterthought and making his way to the main council room. He spotted a few people along the way, some bowing their heads as an act of respect and others noticeably taking a step back as they weren't sure how or if they would approach. Dany was already seated when he walked in, no one else having arrived yet. She was wearing powder blue today, something which made her already pale complexion lighter than ever. almost blending in with her silver hair. Sitting down beside her and placing his crown atop his head, wincing as it tugged a little on a loose strand he had not pulled in tight enough.

"How was the morning ride then?"

"Amazing as always, I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

She simply nodded before taking a sip of some honeyed milk. Something she had taken a bit of a fancy to over the last few days. It was far too sweet for him, but she grew up with different foods to him and he couldn't hold that against her. A small conversation breaking the silence around them as a few servants came over with some food for them to nibble on whilst they awaited on everyone to arrive.

"We need to finish putting a council together, my love. We've been putting it off enough as is."

He frowned a little at this because despite knowing she was right, it was something he did not want to do. To him, a ruler is the one who does the work themselves and does not rely on anyone else. That was how it was in the North, and it was another slap to the face for him over how different everything is. Dany leaned over to kiss him softly before smiling brightly at him.

"I won't be away for long, couple of weeks at most. We can put together a council then. We need to free the prisoners of war first beforehand. They need to be reunited with their families. Do you have any suggestions though?"

"Well, we did say Bran was getting a position, and what better one than whisperers? I know he's not exactly Bran anymore although I can see he is slowly becoming himself again and not this weird shell. He can see everything going on at any given time, meaning we can always remain ahead of everything. For coin, I was thinking perhaps Tyrion, but no one has seen or heard from him since he found his siblings so many weeks ago. We've both agreed to have Davos as our Hand because he's not scared to tell us we're being idiots to our faces like many others but he would've been the best candidate for ships. On top of this, we do need a Lord Commander, Master of War, Grand Maester, and a Master of Laws."

Jon went quiet for a few moments before peeling an orange and removing a segment. The sharp sour taste lingering on his tongue.

"We can write off Grand Maester as the citadel choose whoever that will be. I agree Tyrion would likely be good for coin but we need confirmation from him so we will need a backup in case he refuses. I wouldn't put it past him if he never wants to set foot in the capital again once it's been rebuilt. Although, there's two contenders I can think of for Master of Ships. One not far from here and I'm surprised you haven't thought of it. What about Lord Monford Velaryon?"

He watched as her eyebrows creased a little, thinking on it long and hard. 

"I wasn't even aware there were any more Velaryon's-"

"There's two. Monford and his son I believe, although he may have other children. It's pretty common in our history to have a Targaryen ruling and a Velaryon holding said position. Apart from him, I was thinking perhaps a Manderly. They do hold one of the largest navy's there are, although it goes against what we are trying to do with having every Kingdom be equal to one another."

"Redwyne's maybe? That gives us one from the Reach."

Now that one was also a strong possibility. 

"Perhaps we could have Grey Worm stand in as an unofficial Lord Commander? At least until we agree on who to appoint to Kings and Queensguard."

Dany hummed lightly at the suggestion, seeming to like that one. The Unsullied commander had a vendetta against Jon since the explosion, and he could understand why. He had pulled him away when he first noticed it which prevented him from trying to save Missandei. Even now, guilt over how she had perished ate him up inside. She had been a slave from a very young age, had been freed by his wife, and died in chains. Whilst he hadn't known her well, he did respect her massively. She was a lot like Davos was to him with Daenerys. Didn't sugarcoat anything no matter possible consequences. Both snapped their heads around as they heard the doors opening, sitting up straight and clasping their hands to await everyone. Two head builders, an accountant, a trader, and four men who were going to be travelling with him to free the hostages scattered throughout Westeros. 

"We charged you to get an accurate figure to rebuild the capital. Have you been able to decide on one?"

From the gentle nods that came, they knew one had been agreed on. Jon internally wincing as he knew it was going to be a lot. 

"What will it cost to rebuild the ruined areas? Excluding and including the Red Keep. The King and I have agreed on ruling elsewhere and not from Kings Landing, but we have yet to agree on a location."

It was the first time either of them had spoken those words aloud when not with family. They had been discussing it at length over the last few days and they had whittled it down to an average location, but not an exact one yet. A few eyebrows rose at the revelation, clearly surprised they would not be remaining in Kings Landing. Many people assumed they would take residence there considering it marked the exact same spot Aegon had stepped foot on the mainland more than three hundred years prior. But as they all thought on it, they could see why they didn't want to be there. Too much had happened within the walls, and they wanted to rule from somewhere that they would feel safe at all costs which they never would here.

"Including a castle, we're looking at approximately five million golden dragons give or take one hundred thousand for spare materials. Excluding a castle, I'd say around three point five, with perhaps fifty thousand either side for a buffer, your Graces."

Jon had to hide his shock at that. He had expected it to be a lot more than that, much more. They could easily fund that. He turned to his wife who gave him a small smile before both nodded.

"We should be able to start rebuilding soon then. Cersei Lannister left a lot of gold in the castle that she was intending to use to buy more sell swords. I've also sent a message to the Bay of Dragons to send supplies over which will bring the cost down alongside gemstones we can trade to get more. We will be able to fund without a castle without much hassle and have a few hundred thousand left to go elsewhere."

After this, they moved onto the food shortage. The Kingdom that brought in the most of it was the Reach, and both Moryn and Samwell had worked out a decent amount. His close friend and black brother had agreed to temporarily hold the Kingdom in question until they had agreed on someone to take over in the Paramount position which they had still not fully agreed on. Trade deals were agreed and signed. Names were thrown for the open positions but none were decided upon yet as it was something that needed a lot of consideration and not an immediate decision. A couple of hours passed before a few left, leaving five in the room. Four of which were leaving very soon. Dany hugged him tightly and took his crown from him as he didn't want to take it whilst flying. Him gesturing to the door which led to the chamber of the painted table.

"Where will we be headed first, your Grace?"

He looked to Jesson for a moment before trailing his fingers along the table. Intricately carved hundreds of years before. In the very room his own ancestors had planned their invasion with their few men and three dragons. Every mountain raised, gorges carved in too, each area painstakingly painted by hand and probably took months to finish, possibly even years it was that intricate. The single area of the Black Cells that was untouched had been cleared already, and those in the North and Vale were too. And from Genna's latest raven, she was working on clearing out those in the Westerland's too, but he was going to go just to make sure. Still distrustful of Lannister's, and she was Tywin's sister of all things.

"Most are probably in the Westerland's and the Riverland's. Both were Lannister territory for years so there's bound to be a few dozen at least, possibly even hundreds. We don't need to worry about the Vale nor the Stormland's. I don't believe there will be many in the Reach but it will probably be best to appoint someone the Seat of Highgarden first beforehand."

All nodded at this, taking in his reasoning.

"Westerland's and Riverland's then as a priority?"

"Riverland's as a priority. Lord Edmure has already travelled to the Twins to do so, and we will meet him there. It would be best to work from the top down and it is the northernmost Keep in said Kingdom. I'll have a message sent to the kitchens to prepare food for the day. If we leave within the next couple of hours, we will be at the Twins by nightfall."

At these words, everyone bowed their heads and left the room, sensing the dismissal. Once this was done, Jon found himself wandering around the castle. Even now despite having spent so many months here, he was still finding something new about it he hadn't noticed before. Along the way he came across both Arya and Gendry, the younger blushing deeply and taking a step further away from her partner. Apparently Gendry wasn't taking no for an answer to his proposal any time soon. Clearly just as stubborn as his father even if he had never met the man. Whilst he was angry that his little sister was with him, he couldn't help but be happy for her too. If anyone deserved happiness it was her after everything she had gone through. They'd all gone through a lot in a short amount of time. The next couple of hours flew by, and soon he made his way to the beach to meet his men. Devan, Jesson, and Benjicot. It didn't take long for Rhaegal to appear, landing on the white sandy beach just ahead and lowering himself to make it easier to climb on. His three companions noticeably wincing at what they were about to do.

"On his back there are numerous spikes. If you sit between them they will keep you secure. From there you can either hold on to me and we can form a chain or you can hold on to the spikes. Trust me, neither me nor Rhaegal will let any of you fall."

This did little to calm them, but he wasn’t going to hold that against either of them. Remembering the first time Drogon had come running up to him on this very island. He had been certain he was going to be firmly kicked off the cliff into the waters below. And he had been terrified when Daenerys suggested him riding Rhaegal. Jon went up first and made sure he was settled before reaching a hand down for the others to take which they did so hesitantly. He could feel them moving side to side to try and get as comfortable as they could, it not surprising him in the slightest when he felt Jesson wrap his arms around his waist tightly. After making sure they were all secure, he leaned forward and hooked his own feet behind two spikes before speaking a single word.

“Sōvegon.”

Rhaegal let out a loud roar and lifted himself so he wasn’t flat against the sand anymore before running. Feeling arms grip even tighter around him and he could hear Devan cursing silently under his breath which amused him greatly. Then he felt him raise his wings and a moment later they were ascending into the sky. Those he was with were struggling to breathe but he yelled back how best to do so. It took a few minutes but eventually all were breathing normally, arms loosening already. A good hour into their journey and all had finally braved to break away from the chain and grab hold of a spike, all looking down on the world below in absolute awe. Very few people had experienced a view as such, and he knew they were all burning it deep into their brains. It felt like only seconds had passed before he spotted the two castles on either side of the river. Night was in full force here which was common so far north, and he spotted the two who had grown up in the south shivering at how cold it was. To him though it was welcoming. Rhaegal landing in a large clearing and all dismounting, the others with shaky legs as they struggled to gain their balance after what they had just done.

“We’re around a mile away from the Twins. I’m not taking him directly outside the walls as that will terrify those still occupying the castles. They’ll probably be scared enough due to what my sister done here two years ago.”

Jon spotted them all wince a little. Arya’s brutal revenge was well known now, it wouldn’t surprise him if it was spreading to Essos now that many had gone back after the wars had been won. There was no need for them to remain in Westeros if they didn’t wish to do so. It took them around twenty minutes before they were finally outside the castles, them looking even more terrifying up close. A horrible feeling entering Jon as he took them in. Robb had been murdered here, as was his pregnant wife and his mother. Despite these thoughts, all made their way inside where they were greeted by Edmure and Roslin Tully at the main gates and being shown to their chambers. The Lord had tried to give Jon the King’s quarters but he had vehemently refused, not wanting to be treated as better than he felt he was. Eventually relenting on taking the formal guest quarters. It took him a long time to fall asleep that night, knowing the history of this very building and the impending nerves over what they were going to be doing the following day.


	25. Robb I

Darkness.

That was all he had known for gods know how long. Not even darkness like something were covering his eyes. To the point where he couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face if he held it centimetres from him. Could only just see the outlines of things if he was straining at a very specific angle. Everything about the cell he was in was black. Black floors, black walls, even black doors. Even the two times a day where a servant came by with food and the small hatch was opened to slide it inside, the outside was also black. The only saving grace there was to the entire thing was the tiny gap between the cell he was in and the one beside him which held his mother within. But if she weren’t there, Robb knew he would’ve gone insane a long time ago now.

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Years? 

There was no way for him to know. The servants never spoke a word to them, clearly being ordered to not make a single sound whatsoever. Then there was the fact there were no windows so he couldn’t even watch the movement of the sun nor the moon to even guess to the time of day or what the state of Westeros was currently in. The only thing he had heard about the outside world was the mass assassination of almost every Frey male. Despite the servants being sworn not to speak, his ears had grown sharp and he could hear voices from really far away. Learning how to pull apart specific words from echos bouncing throughout the empty floor. As far as he was aware, there were no other prisoners on this level other than himself and his mother.

He couldn’t count the amount of times he had heard her crying, and it tore him apart knowing he couldn’t reach over to pull her into a tight hug. Whilst the small gap surrounding the cells was just large enough to carry sound, it wasn’t large enough to even slide a hand under it was that small. It felt like it had been a couple of days since he had heard the talk of the servants and how jittery they had been, and he could understand why. Clearly whoever had done it had a massive vendetta against the Frey’s (which wasn’t surprising considering what had happened), but exterminating a line as expansive as that...

He blinked a few times and let out a long breath. Despite not knowing how much time had passed, he did have time to think on everything that had occurred and every mistake he had made. Whilst it was foolish of his mother to agree to a betrothal to Roslin without his knowledge, it was equally foolish of him to wed Talisa secretly. He loved her deeply, and he missed her something fierce. Remembering her snarky attitude and the fact she wasn’t scared to talk back to him despite the title bestowed upon him by the Northern Lords. Not many people had the gall to call a King an idiot, and it caught his attention immediately. Plus, he loved hearing her talk about her ancestry. The Maegyr’s of Volantis were a very wealthy family in Essos, a family he had never gotten to meet. They had talked about taking the babe to meet her parents and siblings when they were born but that would never happen. 

They had been laughing and joking, making remarks over the way Edmure had gone from sulking to beaming when he had come face to face with his bride. Many people had been shocked at the comely girl, neither expecting someone who looked like that to come from old Walder. Whilst many of the man’s daughters had bucked teeth, large foreheads or jaws, and awkward shaped noses- Roslin was the opposite. With her thin nose, very small chin which almost made her look like a doll, and a face adorned with not a single imperfection. But things had gone sour when he had heard his mother yelling his name in anguish, and then moments later one of the Frey’s had walked over and put his knife into Talisa numerous times. He forgot which Frey it was now it had been that long ago, but he did remember the way his wife fell to the ground crying out for help as she held her stomach which was cut open to expose her insides.

The whole thing was chaos, and it had all happened because he had made one stupid oversight. When they had been thrown into the cells after Catelyn had threatened to cut the throats of his daughters who were wed and were simply there to enjoy the festivities, it came crashing down within seconds. It was so obvious looking back on things now, but sometimes what is obvious isn’t obvious until it was too late. Rickard Karstark had been right as much as he loathed to admit it to himself. The moment he had married Talisa and broke his oath, he had doomed them to annihilation. If he hadn’t done so, Walder wouldn’t have deflected to Tywin- a link he had through the man’s sister as she was wed to Emmon and they had multiple children together. But this wouldn’t have stopped Roose Bolton. If he ever got out of here and crossed paths with him, he was going to put the man through all the hells himself. Possibly even bring back practises such as bloody eagles which hadn’t been used for centuries. 

And the worst realisation was that he didn’t even need to leave Talisa. He could’ve come to an agreement with her and Roslin. Whilst he would never be able to take a second wife, he easily could’ve taken her as a mistress. She did openly speak to him about how Essosi were a bit more lax with these kinds of things. Whilst not as much as the Dornish, it wasn’t frowned upon. But what was done was done. The past was already written and the ink had dried long ago. Sealed with the death of his wife and unborn child alongside dozens of faithful bannermen. Instead, the young Frey had been wed to Edmure before being confined to her quarters with the son who was conceived the night of that dreaded wedding. Another thing he had learned from gossiping servants in the halls. The only thing he could hold on to was that he was alive.

Not that this was living exactly, because it wasn’t.

“Surely they can’t keep us here for much longer. House Frey will go extinct after that assassination-“

“They were in line with the Lannister’s, mother. They’ll keep us alive to keep the North in control. As much as I hate to say it.”

The older woman sighed heavily at this before silence surrounded them again. Not a single sound was nearby other than their breaths considering they were the only two here. His mother had once joked that some people would probably have had their tongue removed, but even then there still would be sound. Probably separated due to him being a King and her a Queen mother. Right now, and for a long time, Robb did not feel like a King at all. Not since he had been locked away like he were an errant child being punished for ditching a lesson. Above him through the bricks he could hear numerous footsteps, once again wondering what was going on now. 

Was the war still going on? Was it finished? If it was, who had the Iron Throne? Was Sansa still a hostage in the capital? Was Jon still alive at the Wall? He already knew that Bran and Rickon were dead, torched and put on display outside Winterfell by Theon Greyjoy of all people. If he ever saw him again he would be getting the same treatment as Roose Bolton. Arya hadn’t been seen since his father’s head was taken on King Joffrey’s orders. Hopefully that little shit had faced his comeuppance, Robb doubted someone like that would remain in power for long despite the links he had.

“What do you think is happening? Doesn’t seem like an attack, too few people.”

A part of him wanted to retort by saying there had been a mass assassination where there hadn’t been a peep other than the screams of the servants when they discovered all the bodies. But he kept his tongue bitten and listened carefully, frowning as he understood what she meant. There were much more footsteps than normal, but it wasn’t enough to be an attack. All seemed to be random too and not in a formation of any kind which only solidified this. From under the small crack of the door, he saw light streaming in as the braziers on the walls were lit for the first time in however long, the footsteps getting louder the closer they got.

“How many hostages are there in total?”

The voice he did not recognise, but he did recognise the Crownland’s accent. With a slight twang of a Stormland’s accent too. Someone who lived on the borders of said Kingdom’s perhaps?

“The last count was around fifty, your Grace. Only two are on this level, the others are in the level below.”

Now that was a voice he recognised somewhat, that was one of the Frey daughters. Probably a Waldra or a Walda. Gods, why did that man allow his numerous kids and grandkids to have names so similar to his own? One or two fair enough but there had to be at least a dozen and it was confusing. But then a second voice broke the silence, and it caused him to freeze momentarily. 

“You three get to work on freeing those in the lower levels, I’ll get the two here and once I’ve done so I will come down to assist.”

That was a Northern accent. One from very far north. Sounding like those gruff ones that came from the Gift, sounding similar to the one his uncle Benjen had adapted the years he had spent at the wall. Despite not being able to see anything, the power that voice held was impressive. Echoing just loud enough that it was stern and bartered no argument, yet soft that it didn’t come across as a demand. And whoever it was, was King. And it certainly wasn’t Joffrey nor was it Tommen. Who was it? Footsteps echoed around the floors again, whoever the new King was trying to find the cells they were in. Surely the remaining Frey’s would’ve told him? There was only one set of footsteps now, confirming every other occupant had gone to the lower levels. Freeing hostages, which only meant one thing. The war was over. Nerves eating him up inside as he would soon be getting an answer to what had been going on and just how much time had passed. Through the small crack, he spotted a shadow confirming they had walked by them. Robb taking a deep breath which caused them to stall before facing the door if his sight wasn’t betraying him. He could hear keys jingling as the numerous locks were removed, Robb backing into a corner in slight fear over what he was about to be faced with. The door opening fully for the first time since he had been imprisoned and having to screw his eyes shut at the light streaming in from outside. The new King walking inside and lighting the brazier within before turning to face him. And the second their eyes connected, panic erupted.

“Robb?! What in seven hells- you’re supposed to be dead!”

Frantically, the other man worked on freeing him of his bonds, him not recognising the other at first. But then this eyes registered and his own widened massively. Dark grey eyes- Stark eyes. Black curly hair neatly pulled back, a stern expression and looking melancholy like always. There was no denying who this was, he thought. He was much older than he remembered, but he recognised him now. 

“Jon? How are you here? You’re supposed to be at the Wall-“

He watched as the other froze for a moment before finally undoing the final lock.

“No time to explain here. Roslin! Ready a room for these two now. Get baths drawn for them and ensure there is plenty of food and drink!”

Now that the cell was opened completely, he could see the young woman stood there and nodding silently. From her reaction, she had not recognised them. Robb taking in his extremely long fingernails and noticing his hair almost reached his hips it had grown so long. Much of it matted from lack of care and smelling something sour. 

“My mother, she’s in the next cell down.”

The younger nodded before opening that cell too, the entire time Robb was confused on a whole other level. How was Jon at the Twins? He recognised the voice now, although it was considerably thicker than he remembered it being, him clearly picking up the same twang Benjen had from spending so much time at the Wall. And why in all bloody gods was he being referred to as royalty? Aye, it was true he had written in his will he was to be his heir, but it hadn’t been finalised yet, meaning it couldn’t be that. Had he deserted his post? He must’ve, but why was he not beheaded the moment he done so? Jon stepped back in and looped a strong arm behind his back to help him stand up, his legs almost buckling as soon as he put weight on them. He hadn’t stood for a very long time, and he had to lean against the wall once they were out as he bent down to help Catelyn too. Robb’s eyes widening as he took in his mother. Her face sunken in, body being unnaturally thin, her normal luscious red locks turned mostly grey now and equally as matted as his own. She looked just as shellshocked as he did, her face practically the same colour as curdled milk. She’d treated him like dirt on her show his whole life, yet here he was rescuing her? The world has a funny way of working at times.

“I’m going down with my men to free the other hostages. Both of you deserve a good clean, I can’t even begin to imagine how long and hard it’s been for you. I’ll explain everything once this has been done.”

Robb opened his mouth to ask questions but none were answered as he turned around and made his way down the corridor towards the stairs that went to the lower level. A swirl of red underneath his cape as he done so. Someone walked over and it took him a moment to recognise Roslin, but when she finally realised who it was, her eyes widened massively and her mouth dropped for a second before composing herself. Clearly she was shocked to see him. From both her reaction and Jon’s reaction, understanding dawned on him. It meant Walder Frey had told everyone they had been killed in the wedding. How much time had passed? Years clearly, that much he knew now. But Roslin looked considerably different to what he remembered. Then there was Jon now being taller than him (although not by much) and being referred to as the King. Those types of things don’t happen in a short time span. 

It was strange to be walking as a free man agin. But it felt invigorating. Like every single weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could just be himself which was something he never got to do except on very few occasions. His legs were incredibly stiff, and the thought that they smelled something sour was proven correct as people walking by them were making it known they were holding their breaths. Roslin eventually stopped outside a room before turning to them still in shock.

“These are the King’s quarters. I will send for maids to draw baths and to bring up as much food as possible.”

She was gone before either of them could speak a word, them stepping inside the room. Once the door was closed, his mother let out a loud yell and a laugh alongside it, clearly delighted to no longer be chained up. Until now, he had not once thought of just how bad he smelled, but the last few minutes he had thought on it a lot. Two maids appearing before giving them the all clear that two steaming baths had been prepared for them. Robb practically tore off the clothing he had on, it being nothing but rags now before stepping into the steaming water. He pulled back in shock as the heat touched his skin but he bit his lip and lowered his body in. Just allowing his body to soak, the water turning a sickly brown shade within seconds. It felt like hours before he grabbed a bar of soap and began to clean the grime from him, also biting the corner of his nails so he could rip them off- gosh, they were disgustingly long. 

By the time he finally stepped out, the water was practically black, and his hair now seemingly even longer now that it was wet which tamed his wild curls he had inherited through his father. Once back in the room, he was met with clothing being laid out on one of the large beds. Roslin had said this was the King’s quarters, and he could see that now. The way the room in question was designed was something to behold. Whilst not as grand as Winterfell’s room of the same stature, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the twins. There being two beds for either a King and Queen who did not like one another and slept separately or if there was a young child they had to keep an eye on. His head snapping around as his mother stepped over wearing a deep blue dress which pooled at her feet, only accentuating how much weight she had lost in their years of imprisonment. There was a gentle knock on the door and Jon stepped in with a few servants carrying loaded trays of food each. Robb spotting his mother giving the other male a scornful look, but it was considerably friendlier than the ones she used to give him back in Winterfell.

“Will you be staying another night, your Grace?”

There it was again, your Grace. And directed at Jon. 

“I wasn’t planning on doing so, but in light of current events I will be. Please tell Devan for me, Meressa, he will alert Benjicot and Jesson. Also, you do not need to worry about feeding Rhaegal, he’ll hunt himself tonight.”

The first two names he had spoken clearly had to be those he was with, but what about the other? What kind of a name was Rhaegal? Remembering the mad Targaryen Prince that had never ascended due to his disjoint from reality. The servants bowed their heads and ran from the room, leaving just them. Jon immediately closed the door as he placed his own tray down, his mouth immediately watering as he took it all in. 

“How are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the Wall? And why are they referring to you as King?”

Robb bit his lip at the harsh and accusatory tone in his mothers voice. But unlike what he done when they were children, he kept his gaze with her and didn’t even flinch, the female being shocked at the sheer display.

“Both of you sit, and eat. You both look like you haven’t done so in weeks. There is a lot to tell you.”


	26. Catelyn I

It was rare that she got insulted. Having grown up in the south, she had been trained from a young age to tell the difference between criticism and a slight as well as telling an apple and an orange apart. She'd faced humiliation plenty of times but this right now, was a contender for the worst humiliation she had ever endured.

When she had received the raven that the war was over and she could start travelling north all those years ago and she walked in to be met with her husband and a squealing baby in his arms, she had been horrified. Whilst it did not surprise her he had sought solace in another woman during the war as it was common, plus they had spent that year apart from one another, she had not expected him to be as careless as to get a child on another woman. And she had expected it less of him to bring the child in. Every single day, every single night, the thought that there was a child her husband openly claimed in front of her making her bitterly despise the boy.

What hurt most was that he had been in Winterfell before Robb had been carried through. Robb was the heir to Winterfell, and it hurt her that the first time she had presented him to her husband, he had also been presented to his base born half-brother. Yet here he was, sitting in front of them, staring at her with such a calm level of fury if she didn't know better she would've thought the boy had grown up in the south. And he was being referred to as King. It made her feel sick to her stomach. Bastards were sinful, always were. Only out to outdo their betters. It was a known fact, one that was drummed in to her, her siblings, her parents, it was just something everyone knew. 

"What year is it?"

The words were scratchy, confirming he had equally as dry a throat as she did. But still, she refused to eat or drink anything on the table. Fully expecting there to be poison of some form in there. But she kept her lips sealed as Robb took a long gulp of some summer wine. It was a question she wanted answered too, and she bit her pride back as she awaited an answer, refusing to break her gaze with the Snow.

"It's coming up to the ninth moon turn of 306 AC."

Whilst she had known it had been a long time, she had not expected it to have been more than five years. That explained how her red locks had turned grey and why clothing that was probably made for a child was loose on her now. It wasn't a surprise he looked older, and Roslin did too. Both the bastard and Robb were now four and twenty, and she herself nearing two and forty. 

"Why did they name you though? I'm sure you proved yourself but you're still a bastard-"

"I'm not, I never was."

It took a few seconds for those words to sink in for her, but the second they did, she sat back in her seat as she finally took in the others looks. Even when he was young he had the Stark look about him, another insult to her considering her own children favoured her colouring apart from little Arya. She had only carried Robb in that time, and Eddard's marriage was well known- Septon's would not permit a second wife. And he hadn't been legitimised because there needed to be a royal decree, and the boy did carry the name of Snow. Therefore, this meant only one thing. Eddard had lied to them all, a bitter taste making its way into her mouth as the realisation began crashing in to her.

"My father isn't your father, is he? He took you in."

Despite her rapidly speeding heart, Catelyn couldn't deny that she was proud of Robb for figuring it out too. It was difficult to see his face, his beard overgrown and matted as was his moustache and his hair. She was in much the same boat as he was, would likely need to cut much of it off. Something she did not want to do because it was the one thing she knew Ned loved about her first. 

"Numerous citadel records were found confirming my parentage. I'm not your brother Robb. At least, not my blood. I'm your cousin. Let's just say I was a lot closer to my mother than I thought in Winterfell."

It was only now that she chanced to take a pear and biting into it, the juices exploding into her mouth as she fought back a moan at eating food that wasn't mouldy for the first time in five years. Cousin, and he could only be a cousin through one side of the tree as Lysa had lost her babe and Edmure had not had a child until he had wed Roslin. Leaving only the Stark side of everything. Was he Brandon's? Possibly. Her first betrothed had confirmed he had fathered two bastards before they had met for the first time but he had promised he would not do so once married. And it was rumoured he had been with the Dayne woman whom most believed to have been the mother. She knew it wasn't Benjen in any way. But then understanding dawned on her. He couldn't be Ashara's, because then he would still be a bastard. Which left only one option.

Lyanna Stark was the boy's mother. But she also hadn't been married as far as she was aware. She had simply been promised to Robert Baratheon. Perhaps he had gotten her with child during the tourney and wed her secretly to protect her honour? No, that didn't sound right. Ned almost never talked about his baby sister, but the few times he did he spoke of how wild she was, stating Arya was a lot like her. And there was no way Arya would let a man near her in such a way. Trying to make sense of the events. He said he had gotten the babe at Starfall which was where the rumours of Ashara had started, but what if he hadn't? What if that was only the excuse? the only place he had been that would fit the timescale was...

Her eyes widened once again as she looked at him again, not even realising she had turned her gaze away from him. Now that she was staring at him deeply, she could see he didn't look completely Stark. Whilst his eyes were grey like the Stark's, they were considerably darker than the others. Almost black, and now she was looking harder she spotted a slight hint of purple in there. Then there was the fact he had the very thin nose, large lips, and angled eyes that was famous with those of the blood of Valyria. Lyanna had been in the Tower of Joy, held captive by three Kingsguard. Three people who had been ordered to be there. And she had died in a pool of blood covered in roses. 

Died in her bed. Three Kingsguard outside. Had disappeared with the Crowned Prince a year prior and started a war. Was found in a pool of blood. Childbirth. 

"You're Rhaegar's Targaryen's son."

The words tasted like bile in her mouth, but the moment she said it, she could see the way his eyes darted to the wood for a split second. It was all the confirmation needed. And if he wasn't a bastard that meant they had been wed. Seven hells-

"Aye. Trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. He never kidnapped or raped her. She ran off and eloped with him. Elia was fully aware of it and gave consent to an annulment so they could wed. We have documents to prove that. Lord Eddard took me in after he found my mother bleeding out after birthing me and she made him swear a sacred oath to keep me protected. If anyone knew the truth about me, I would've been butchered in my crib. I'm sure you'll know what happened to my actual siblings."

Now, Catelyn was sure she could hear her own heart beating, all sound other than this seemingly disappearing as she took in the words. Wasn't kidnapped. Wasn't raped. Meaning the rebellion was built on either a misunderstanding or a lie. Which one she had no idea of, but it sickened her massively. She watched as Robb took a roll loaded with cheese and biting into it, obviously trying to hold in a moan just as she had with the pear. Her quickly reaching for more food. How did he find out the truth? And how had he gotten free from his vows? And how in seven hells had the boy ended up as King in the end? Was he just of the North or as a whole? Robb's sudden bark of laughter broke her from her thoughts as she turned to her son with a confused expression.

"So, the King was a bastard and the bastard was a King. Who would've thought."

Jon could do nothing but laugh along with this. Clearly those words held meaning of some kind for him, and only now did she notice he had a silver band on his ring finger confirming he was wed. A deep smile forming on his face as he was thinking hard on something. It didn't last for long before a mask was covering his face, clearly he'd had political training to be able to do so that quickly. Watching as he poured himself some ale and taking a long sip.

"I'd best start from the beginning then. You've both missed out on a lot of things. But please, keep your minds open because some of the things that happened were believed to have been nought but stories-"

"Like what? You found out we do live in the eye of a giant called Macumber or something?"

Just like that, the stoic expression he wore on his face was replaced with one that was incredibly uncomfortable. Dark grey eyes carrying a haunted look in them, lips parted ever so slightly. She knew that look well, she had saw Ned come back from wars wearing the exact same look a few times, and she had witnessed the exact same look on Robb whenever he came back from a battle. Whilst Robb had simply tried to liven up the mood, it had turned dark, him clearly understanding now was not the time to make jokes. Gods, what had happened in the past five years? What was happening elsewhere whilst they were fighting to gain independence as they refused to kneel to Joffrey after taking Ned's head? Ned, a sharp pain made its way into her as she thought of him. She'd liked Brandon a lot, but she knew she wouldn't have been happy with him. Content yes, but not the other. But his dour little brother she could say with certainty made her incredibly happy. She watched as he took a deep breath before tying his fingers together, clearly not wanting to talk about whatever had happened.

And he had talked. He told them everything. Of how he had gotten his Valyrian steel sword (which she noticed Robb looking at jealously for a moment), to the great ranging where hundreds perished and a little more than one hundred made it back. To his imprisonment by the Wildling’s, to finding out that White Walker’s were very much real. Obviously, she knew the tales, but she thought they had been just that- tales. But that look, it was one of complete honesty, and he had no reason to lie to her just now. He glossed over a brief relationship with a Wildling woman and escaping just in time to warn his sworn brother’s of the impending attack coming their way. He went into vivid detail of the battle that occurred and how he had then gone to parlay after killing dozens of them. This then leading to Stannis coming in of all things.

Catelyn had met Stannis twice in her life. Once when she was little and the second time was when she had watched as he parlayed with Renly. The man had a huge army behind him at the time, how had he lost so many men that he was resorting to trying to recruit Wildling’s to fight with him? Of how he had offered the man shelter only to be named Lord Commander not long after. He proceeded to summarise that Stannis had offered to release him from his vows and legitimise him but he had refused- did he know at this point he was a Targaryen? She spotted Robb’s eyebrows creased in thought, silently wondering what was on his mind, but she didn’t bring it up with him. 

And finally, he got to the controversial decision he had made. Either way it would’ve been bad. If he didn’t allow them to come south, it was more people for the Walker’s to bring back. And if he did, he was going to be scorned by the Northern Lords. She thought deeply on what she would’ve done in such a situation. The only one she had been in that was somewhat similar was when she had released Jaime- but that paled in comparison. It was only now she spotted his hands were shaking badly, clearly whatever was about to be told was horrid if it had him reacting like this. He’d always been very dim and keeping to the background, and not showing any kind of emotion on his face. The reason made sense soon as the sheer calamity that had occurred was explained. Trying her best to imagine what it would be like to see tens of thousands being butchered in front and not being able to help, and she could see how rigid Robb was. He’d been in numerous battles but one against dead people? And this was all happening whilst they were locked in cells in this very castle, completely oblivious. 

“I knew I’d made the correct decision in saving those people even though it was very few compared to how many died. My brother’s didn’t all agree with it, I let them pass the wall, letting them know they didn’t need to bend the knee if they didn’t want to. Just had to abide by the laws of Westeros which they agreed immediately on. A few days passed after this and I was doing paperwork in my solar when my steward told me there had been a sighting of Benjen. Naturally, I rushed outside to find out more information. I found out too late it was a ruse, and my watch ended that night.”

The more the story continued, the more her anger dissipated into one of pity and disgust. Remembering the promise she had made to herself that she had failed to keep. Of how she would love the boy like he was her own. Instead, she had continued to spurn him like he was nothing but shit. But then her eyebrows quirked, looking to him in confusion. Night’s Watch vows are for life, so how? Her silent question was answered a moment later as he removed his clothing on his top half which caused her to redden in embarrassment and cast her gaze elsewhere, only catching the sight of a gaping wound on his chest and turning back to make sure she hadn’t seen what she thought she had. A strangled gasp leaving both her and Robb as they both eyed the wounds on his chest. Multiple of them, all opened like they were still fresh but there was no blood coming from either of them. 

“Jon how- how did you survive that?”

Catelyn watched as Robb reached over to touch one of them before retracting, but the younger nodded to give him consent. His fingers touching the scarred skin, cringing internally as he pressed in to how deep one of them was, the other not even wincing confirming it was fully healed even though it didn’t seem like that at all. He went into morbid detail of the confusion he had felt when he woke up and realising what had happened, and that just before this Stannis had suffered a massive defeat. This allowing the boy to leave as his vows were complete. And then a name was spoken which immediately had her heart fluttering within her. Sansa. Sansa had escaped the capital and fled to be with Jon, and subsequently talking him in to taking back Winterfell from the Bolton’s. But then something else broke the silence, who had helped her escape, and what he had confessed to her. Bran and Rickon had not been killed, Theon had lied about doing so, and he had defied orders and ran with her and then proceeded to broker peace with his sister. Robb’s hands curled tightly as he thought about their ward, but he didn’t say anything about it yet.

Her relief was short lived as he spoke about how close he had been to saving Rickon before he was shot through by Roose’s bastard. How did Rickon end up back in Winterfell? The reason for that sickened her massively, remembering Smalljon with fondness. He’d been kind to her, and in the end he had given her youngest son to someone by all accounts made Joffrey sound like a spoiled child. But they had won, and she realised with a start she was holding her breath, a sick feeling of justice entering her as he revealed how Sansa had dealt with her husband. Her daughter had always been a perfect little Lady, but clearly she had changed, and she hated the fact she felt proud over the fact she had fed someone alive to their own dogs. 

The next part that was spoken echoed in her ears, remembering the moment Robb was proclaimed King by the Northern Lords, to think he had risen to such a station when he still believed himself to be a bastard was astonishing. To finding out what had been going on, Cersei’s turn for insanity not surprising her but still horrifying her. A feeling of fear entering her as he began talking about Daenerys arriving on Dragonstone with an army larger than one hundred thousand and three fully grown dragons at her back. Word of them had been going around for a while, but she didn’t believe it. Dragons had been gone from the world for more than one hundred years but apparently not anymore. But she spotted something on the other, the way his face brightened as he spoke of her. It was a look he had on his face whenever he spotted Arya getting into mischief. A look she wore whenever she spoke about Ned. He loved her, was it her he was married to? It wouldn’t surprise her, it wasn’t uncommon in Westeros to have an aunt and nephew pairing. 

On and on it went, and it seemed like she had blinked before he got to the battle against the dead. Of the losses they had endured throughout the fight, of how he had bonded with one of the dragons just beforehand and was attacking from above with his aunt. Speaking of how he had found out the truth of his parentage hours before and how he had channelled that feeling of uncertainty into the fight ahead. But then the final battle came against Cersei. What had happened with that? She hadn’t spent much time around the Lannister woman, but Catelyn knew she would not have gone quietly. Well, she had been correct in her assessment. Destroy most of the city with wildfire, killing hundreds of thousands in a matter of moments. 

“Dany and I married two months ago, and we found out not even a sennight ago that she is with child, but we are keeping it under wraps in case something goes wrong. We’re staying in Dragonstone just now but we have decided to move elsewhere. We’re undecided on an exact location but we know roughly where we want to be. Luckily, Rhaegal made a full recovery, it was feared he wouldn’t be able to fly again after he was shot down by Euron. Arya and Bran are both in the castle with us and Sansa is on her way down by ship. She wanted Northern independence still but everyone knew that after fighting two wars with that many casualties, it wasn’t a suitable option anymore. we’ll be rebuilding the ruined part of the capital soon but we won’t be rebuilding the Red Keep. The truth is now out regarding me and since we married, it immediately meant I was King again. She’s staying to oversee the costs whilst I’m travelling with a few of my loyal men to free all the hostages.”

To put it lightly, she was stunned into silence as he finished his tale on what had happened. And this was only his side of it all. He was still giving her a tense glare but it wasn’t as harsh as the one he was giving her earlier, him clearly noticing she felt ashamed over everything. As much as she wanted to take it back now, the damage had been done. But perhaps she could make amends with him for the future. Therefore, the following words fell from her lips.

“Thank you, for keeping my family safe when I couldn’t.”

He seemed shocked but he covered it up quickly. Never in her life had she thanked him, and disgust ate her up inside.

“We’ll spent the night here, and I’ll see if I can get the servants and Roslin to help with your hair and disguise you both. A family reunion is long needed, and we don’t need this to be watched by everyone if they knew you were both alive. It was Arya who assassinated the Frey’s. She witnessed it happen, but the Hound knocked her out before she could run in to try and help. Also, Edmure is happy with Roslin. He loves her and they have two sons together and a third child on the way. She had no idea what her father was planning, and we were raised not to punish a child for the sins of their parents. There’s no nice way I can say this. Bran is what is called the Three Eyed Raven, he is the strongest Greenseer in the world. He can see everything that is happening and everything that has happened in the past. Arya though, she went to Braavos and trained with the Faceless Men for years. Whilst she isn’t wholly one, she is an advanced acolyte and she was permitted to keep the skills she has learned. Sansa will not be forced into any other marriage solely for politics. Whilst I’m not seeing eye to eye with her currently, I will not do that to her. She’s still my sister, and I love her. If I hear anything about either of you doing so-“

Jon trailed off after this but the threat was made clear. He got up to leave now but Robb stopped him.

“Jon, these are the King’s quarters and you’re the King-“

“Just because I’m King doesn’t mean I enjoy special treatment, Robb. I have the formal guest quarters. Now sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

With that, he walked away, leaving them in complete shock. When had the world gone mad?


	27. Jaehaerys XI

The moment he had stepped into the guest quarters, his mask fell. For years he had been keeping up a guard on himself, to make it look like nothing got to him. A piece of advice he had gotten from Tyrion all those years before when Robert Baratheon had ridden through the gates at Winterfell. To the taunting of being a bastard, to his nonchalant comment about offending him. It was words he was glad to have gotten even if at the time he had taken great insult to them and was fuming that a Lannister had the gall to say they were similar to one another when they were anything but. 

Never forget you're a bastard, for the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armour, and it can never hurt you.

Except, he wasn't a bastard, he never was one. His feelings towards Eddard were mixed to put it lightly. Whilst he was always going to love the man, it stung deeply he had lied to his face for six and ten years. Had he ever planned on telling him? He'd promised to do so when he had left with Benjen for Castle Black, but he hadn't lived a further year after this which then led to the War of the Five Kings. And one of those King's was now in the same building as him, one everyone believed to have been butchered. Whilst he had looked very different to how he remembered- Jon knew the second he looked into those bright blue eyes who it was. Matted hair and overgrown facial hair aside, his features were very noticeable. 

Before he knew it, he had grabbed a glass on the table and threw it at the wall, watching it shatter into dozens of pieces on the ground before sitting down on the bed, palms of his hands pressing against his eye sockets as if he were trying to force himself to forget a horrific nightmare. For how many days had he cried in solitude when he found out what had supposedly happened? How many times had he been ridiculed for acting too much like him? How many times had he heard comments comparing him to the other? Over the last few months, all of this had finally stopped, although that could be because what had happened was still ringing in everyone's minds. 

And it had been a lie all along. Another lie regarding his family added to the numerous there already were. That Eddard was an oath breaker, that his father had kidnapped and raped his mother before ordering her death, that he wasn't a Snow but a Targaryen, that Theon hadn't killed Bran and Rickon like he had said. His eyes immediately closing as he remembered the frightened look on the younger's face as he galloped towards him. Jon had always been gifted atop a horse, but he had never ridden one like that before, like he were one with the wind. To the way his eyes widened when the arrow came into contact with his back before piercing out his front...

It was only now he realised that he was crying. Something he hadn't done since he'd had that big fight with Dany in Winterfell over him telling his siblings. But before then? The only time he knew with certainty was when Ygritte was shot down right in front of him and he caught her as she spoke her final words. Dazzling blue eyes and hair kissed by fire, a woman he loved fiercely, and one taken too soon. Whilst he loved his wife dearly, a part of him was always going to love the feisty redhead, and Dany understand that more than anyone. The back of his hand reaching up to press against his lips as he desperately tried to stop but it was to no avail, said body part coming back soaked with hot salty tears only a minute later. 

His mind was whirring at hundreds of miles a second currently, not knowing what to say, think, or feel. How does one process that someone everyone believed was dead was actually alive the entire time and was simply in a cell for years? What was Walder Frey doing lying about having him killed? And why in all the hells combined had he desecrated a body and put it in Robb's clothing and sewn Grey Wind's head onto it?! Desecrating someone deceased was a horrid thing, and to think it had happened to someone to give the illusion of a murder was even more sickening. Another nameless corpse, one who might've had a family, and the poor man's family were never going to get closure on what had happened to him. 

Steadily, he took a deep breath and slowly released it, trying his best to calm his racing heart. It took a long time for him to do so, but now he was simply looking at the stone underneath his feet, with nothing but a blank look on his face. Whilst a part of him wanted to grab the other by the hand and run around screaming in joy, he couldn't do that. This was going to create a whole other mess on top of the mess they already have on their plate. And to think only a few days ago he felt they were finally getting somewhere in healing Westeros. He'd thought and said it numerous times by now, but life loved to laugh at him. Waiting until everything was calm and then throwing another labyrinth to entrap him.

On this, he needed to speak to Dany on. That was a certainty. This now took priority alongside rebuilding Kings Landing. This was going to change everything again. With Robb alive, by succession he was the Warden of the North, but he had been declared King. Whilst only a few faithful men had managed to survive that horrid night in this very castle, they still did so. Whilst it was Jon Umber who first cried for independence according to one of the many spectators, many of them had respected him. Sansa had tried to stake a claim over the North and if it weren't for him being suspicious and eavesdropping, it might've worked in her favour. But now someone who had been given the claim much like had happened to him, this could easily cause a rift to break them apart. The only thing he could do at this moment would be to speak to someone, and there was someone in this very castle who would probably be reacting the exact same as he was currently if Roslin had already told him.

Jon checked himself in the looking glass, hissing a little at how puffy and red his eyes were over everything. Gods, he looked a right mess, and his outward appearance was betraying his inner thoughts. Propriety had been drummed into him for years, but right now he would gladly look those people who had done so in the eye and tell them to fuck off. Quickly putting on his Kingly mask and heading straight for the Lord and Lady's chambers. Whilst Edmure and Roslin had taken up residence in Riverrun, they were taking said quarters whilst they were here. A few servants were giving him looks as he passed them, clearly noticing something big had happened to have the King look as he did, but he paid them no mind. His knuckles banging on the oak as soon as he got there. 

"What?"

The word came out clipped from the older male, but it didn't offend him in the slightest. He would've reacted the same way as he did if it was Edmure coming to speak to him. The door being opened a moment later by Roslin and when Edmure realised who it was he had just snapped at, his face flushed in embarrassment.

"Pardon me, your Grace, I did not realise it was you-"

"There is no need to apologise, my Lord. I'm guessing your wife has made you aware of the development?"

His eyes glanced around the room and he spotted multiple drawers strewn around, clothing flung everywhere. Clearly reacting like he had by wanting to cause damage to distract himself. But then he remembered that they had been prisoners in this castle themselves. He probably felt like a failure on his House for not realising what lay under his feet. Did that sound familiar to him, his own mother had been underneath his feet his entire life and he'd had no idea. 

"Is it definitely them?"

"Aye, it is. I have already caught them up on everything that has occurred but they will need time to process everything."

He watched as the older took a deep breath before slowly letting it out much like he had not long before. Roslin was stood to the side, looking back and forth between the pair not knowing what to do or even if she should be here. Eventually, he took the initiative by turning to her and nodding his head gently, confirming he would like this to be a personal talk. She simply nodded her head before making her way outside, probably to find either of their sons. Jon had only met them a couple of times, but they were a boisterous pair, much alike he and a certain someone they had just discovered had been alive the whole time. 

“How- how bad are they?”

Slowly, Jon walked over to sit down beside the man, the older flinching a little over it all. It was something he was still getting used to, realising now he was channelling his bastard side a lot currently and it was jarring remembering he wasn’t one. 

“They’re both as thin as a rail. Their clothes were practically hanging off them. Their hair all matted and almost reaching their hips. Your sister’s has turned grey- lost all the red that is common with Tully’s. And it was clear neither had bathed once in that time. I have had them placed in what should be my quarters.”

Edmure leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, pinching his eyes shut in a mixture of frustration and guilt over everything. During the talk they had when he had come to Dragonstone not long ago, he had confessed how much he felt like he had been a failure to his House, and he probably felt more so now with the discovery.

“Lord Edmure, look at me.”

The older either didn’t hear him or ignored him- he wasn’t sure which. It could easily be either because his own head was blocking certain words out too and there was a strong possibility he was the same.

“Edmure Tully, that was an order, not a request.”

This caught his attention and soon bright blue eyes were staring into his own. Jon licked his lips as he carefully thought his wording over.

“My Lord, what happened was not your fault. That night was probably being planned months in advance. As much as I hate to say it, multiple people were to blame- Robb especially for breaking his oath. However, the oath was agreed by your sister and she really should’ve questioned said demand considering Walder was sworn to your father. The only mistake you made was that one attack you made against his orders and losing men. Everything else you done to make sure your wife and future children were safe. I’m going to tell you something I was told by someone I admired greatly when I was younger. When it comes down to it, everyone will have to face a choice. There is honour on one hand and duty on the other. An impossible choice where no matter which one you decide, there will be those who will disagree with it and will fight you over it. But as long as you believe you made the correct decision in the end, then nothing else matters.”

Even now, Aemon’s words echoed in his ears. He missed him dearly, and it was a shame that the elderly man had never known he had kin under the same roof. Jon had lost count the number of times he had stared off into space and thought he was talking to his beloved little brother, or the times he shared funny memories of his other siblings too. 

“I believe you know what choice I ended up with, my Lord?”

It was quiet for a few seconds before the older hesitantly nodded. What had happened to him at Castle Black was well known now as much as he hated it. He wanted to lock it away in an underground cave and throw away the key, but word travels fast. And clearly, a King rising from the dead was one of those times. 

“To think they were here, this whole time. For so many years I’ve hated myself for what happened and they were under my feet?”

Those words echoed in his ears, sounding scarily similar to the exact same ones he had used when he had found out the truth of his parentage. He had lost count how many times he had asked who his mother was, and she was literally only a few metres from him at all times his entire childhood. 

“What happened has happened. It’s already been written, it cannot be changed in any way. At least you’ll be able to speak to them and apologise yourself if it gives you closure.”

This was strange, Jon thought to himself. When was the last time he had sat down and had a normal conversation with someone completely disregarding courtesies and titles who wasn’t family? Probably Sam, and they hadn’t been spending much time together. With the older taking his acolyte position very seriously and the other running multiple Kingdom’s, they rarely had time to just be Jon and Sam. It was very apparent now it was King Jaehaerys Targaryen and Acolyte Samwell Tarly. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get advice as such from?”

Sadness enveloped him at the question.

“From my thrice great-uncle Aemon. King Maekar’s third son. He was the Maester at Castle Black when I arrived. He didn’t bring people in on it much considering he was more than one hundred name-days when I first got there. He spoke those words to me when I tried to abandon my post to support Robb when he first called the banners. If anyone knew what I was going through then, it was him. He had to sit back and watch as his brother was ridiculed for ruling as he did even if he was fair. He had to sit back and watch as all but one of his nieces and nephews obeyed their duty. He had to sit back as the Mad King descended into insanity. And he had to sit back when that Mockingbird spread that vicious lie regarding my mother and father.”

“I never liked him, always thought he was trying too hard to be someone he wasn’t. I’m aware of your reasons on why you do not like my sister, your Grace, but she does have a kind heart underneath it all. And Lysa? I don’t know where we failed her, but she doted on him and hated me because I was wary. There are times where I wonder what would’ve happened had he not challenged Brandon to that duel, or if Cat hadn’t called out to him not to kill him. It would’ve saved us from a lot of the devastation.”

It was something he thought on as well at times. What if Baelish hadn’t been around? That lie would not have been spread regarding his parents for one, meaning there would be no demanding of his father’s head by his uncle. That much was a certainty. But Robert Baratheon would likely have still started a war to get Lyanna in his arms even if she hated the man. This in turn would’ve had a few House’s in the Reach rebelling too due to Selyse originally being a Florent. It stunned him at times thinking that woman was Sam’s aunt of all things being the older sister of his mother Melessa. They never treated one another as family when Stannis had come to Castle Black, confirming they were probably estranged from one another. 

“We’ll never know unfortunately. I’d imagine both of them are sleeping currently, they’ve probably not had a proper night of sleep in years. We have already identified the other hostages there were and I have already sent ravens to those who still have family members left. I would request for you to remain here until you hear a response from them. On the morrow I shall be heading back and I will take them with me, they’ve been here long enough. Plus, they deserve to see the others again. But I will say this, do not tell them what Sansa attempted to do. Whilst I have not forgiven her, I will not tarnish her reputation further. If she wants to tell them, she will do so herself.”


	28. Robb II

The entire day prior had felt like a dream. A wonderful dream. There were times where he had wanted to pinch himself or ask someone to knock him over the head to wake up from it all. But the moment he rolled over and realised he was wrapped in rich cotton blankets on a featherbed confirmed it was anything but that. He didn’t want to move, but he knew it was something he was going to need to do. With the thought in mind, he rolled onto his back and pushed himself up, sighing as his spine and neck cracked in the process. It was something so menial thinking on it now, cracking bones to bring on relief. But being kept in the position he was in with those chains tying him to the walls prevented him doing so.

He looked around him, taking in the room that he was currently in. The day prior he hadn’t really done so considering the bombshells that had been dropped on both him and his mother. Speaking of her, he spotted her curled up in a ball, the blankets tucked underneath her chin to keep in as much warmth as possible. Robb was used to the cold, having grown up in the North, but he remembered Catelyn had not. Whilst she had acclimated well over the years, it was still harsh for her leading to his father having the seamstresses to line every item of clothing she owned with a thin layer of fur. 

To his right was a small desk with a couple of drawers in it, the top with a cup of water on it alongside a small tray of cheese, fruits and biscuits. From how high the sun was in the sky, he knew it had to be quite late in the morning, possibly early afternoon. Quickly taking an apple and biting hard into it and almost moaning as the juices danced around on his tongue. How many times had he eaten apples when he was young? Hundreds? Thousands? The curtains were a deep green in colour, with black and silver trimmings. The bricks used for the inner decor being a mixture of bright red and grey which contracted strongly against one another. Furniture intricately carved and inlaid with numerous gemstones from tourmalines to garnets to sapphires, and even some gold. 

Whilst it was a known fact the Frey’s were rich, he hadn’t expected them to be this much. Perhaps the rumours of them secretly raising their pricing to cross were true for everyone- it certainly was for him. Two marriage alliances and a squire just to cross a bloody bridge. So many years had passed since that day and even now he wonders why he had agreed to it without fighting back on it. And what made him wince more was that this was the lowest he was taking according to his mother, and he could tell immediately when she was lying. What else had the man wanted from him to cross? Shaking his head to rid himself of the memories as it had been so long and the man was dead. Killed by Arya of all people.

When Jon had confirmed that it was Arya who had massacred the Frey’s, he had been shocked. To think his wild baby sister who used to get yelled at by their parents for running along walls with Bran had single handedly killed dozens of people in a single night? And no one was aware until the bodies were found the following morning? He was a killer, he knew Jon was a killer, his father was a killer, but he had never expected it from either of his sisters. Although he couldn’t hide the feeling of pride that Sansa fed her own husband to his hunting dogs. Whilst Jon didn’t divulge exactly what had happened to her, it didn’t take a genius to figure out.

But something did irk him. He had said they weren’t seeing eye to eye, but he had caught the way anger flashed in his eyes alongside sadness. Clearly something had happened between them, but he didn’t want to go into much detail on it. Climbing out of the bed and walking to the adjoining room to get cleaned up. When Robb took in his reflection, he almost jumped back in fright. Gods, he was a mess. Trying to brush through his hair but failing miserably in doing so as the matting was that bad. When he made his way back into the room, he was met with his mother stretching too, arching her back at an angle that was probably uncomfortable before making her way over too. It didn’t take her long to freshen up either and just as she came back in, there was a gentle knocking on the door before Jon walked in.

The day before, Robb had not really taken in his clothing. But it was obvious now that it depicted his stature. Fucking hell, his dour little brother was the King of Westeros. Remembering the story he had told of what had happened and secrets that were revealed. It was ironic that the boy who always used to play pretend Aemon the Dragonknight and Daemon the Rogue Prince was a Targaryen all along. Had been one from the second he had been pulled from his mother. A younger man was trailing behind him too, looking to them with awed expressions. Who was he?

“This is Lord Devan Seaworth, he’s my Hand’s son. He’s going to be remaining whilst I get the two of you to Dragonstone.”

He wasn’t even going to deny the way his heart jumped within him at hearing he was finally leaving this wretched place. Honestly, he wouldn’t have hesitated to tear it down brick by brick, but it did hold tremendous value being the only castle at the crossing. 

“Don’t you need to send a raven first?”

Now, Robb’s eyebrow quirked a little. His mother’s question breaking his thought process. They would need to send correspondence first, meaning they weren’t leaving today. But then he spotted Devan smirk at Jon and the older smiling broadly before nodding as a silent gesture to leave them alone. Jon walking over and handing him a flagon and from a small sniff realised it was ale, immediately taking a long drink of it, completely ignoring the stare his mother was giving him at his lack of propriety.

“We’ll be there in approximately five hours, long before any raven will arrive. I’ve sent for Edmure and Roslin to come over to introduce you to their sons. I believe Roslin is going to help with your hair and they will both help with disguising you as well. I’ve got a meeting to go to just now but I won’t be long.”

No words were spoke as he left the room, the underside of his black cloak lined with dark red and gold. This was a reality, one that seemed impossible but was indeed the truth. They weren’t waiting for long before there was another knock on the door, two familiar faces walking in. It took his mother a few seconds before she collapsed to her knees crying as she took in her little brother, the older walking over to pull her to her feet and hug her close to him, whispering furiously into her ear as he done so, his own eyes holding a thin layer of water which reflected the light from the bright sun. Roslin was stood a little to the side watching the exchange, with a child in each arm. One probably a year old at most, and he already knew the other had been conceived the night of that dreaded wedding. But his eyes trailed to her stomach, specifically the slight curve there was confirming she was with child again. She looked happy, and Edmure did too as he let go of his sister to take his eldest son from his wife. 

“My father told us he killed you both. We didn’t know what had happened until the next day and we were locked in my quarters in the castle. We weren’t allowed out or anything otherwise we could’ve done something. I’m sorry my Lord, my Lady, for what they did. I had no idea what they were plotting.”

Robb walked over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, seeing the genuine sorrow on her face.

“We forgive you, Roslin. You weren’t at fault, and I see you’re rather taken with my uncle.”

At the small quip, he watched as both of their cheeks reddened massively, confirming they very much were happy with the match and did love one another. Edmure walking over to pull him in and clapping him lightly on the back too.

“These are our sons, Hoster and Brynden. Cat, the Lannister’s besieged Riverrun during everything going on and our uncle died fighting. It only felt right to name the future of our House after our father and uncle.”

Both boys were looking at them quizzically, the older seeming a little scared. Not that Robb blamed him, if he was that young and saw him as he is he would’ve ran in terror. Roslin handed over a small bag, him pulling out two sets of breeches and loose shirts, with two long cloaks as well. 

“Clothing, and we need to cut your hair. We can’t have it look like you’ve been prisoners. Luckily, I learned how to do so whilst we were locked up. My wonderful husband was blessed with the curse of hair growing quicker than a woman’s leg hair.”

The older male turned to his wife with pure insult, whilst both he and his mother snorted aloud at the quip. From the way his mothers head was nodding lightly, he knew this to be true. Both walked into the adjoining room to pull the clothing on, noting how simple they were. Not embossed with anything, nor lined with any fancy material. Much like the small folk in Wintertown wore. Albeit without all the fur. Once dressed, both made their way to the room again, seeing Edmure had disappeared with their boys. Roslin separated as much of the hair as she could with her tools, smearing a paste through it to help her remove as much tangles as she could. Robb wasn’t too bothered with his hair, it had always been Jon who had been vain in that department. Remembering the times he and Theon teased him over it when they were kids. His ended up needing to be cut just below his ears. Not as long as it had been before, but to a point he was happy with. His mother’s needing to be cut to her shoulders and he could tell she was crushed by that. His father loved her long auburn hair, and now it was short and grey. 

“That should do the trick. Only people who were close to you both would recognise you. When you’re ready, send for his Grace and he will take you to where he is currently staying.”

She left after this in search of her husband and sons, him frowning in confusion as he realised something. Jon said it would only take around five hours to get there, but Dragonstone was wedged between Shipbreaker’s Bay, the Blackwater, and the Narrow Sea. Only a day or two off the shores of Kings Landing. And Kings Landing was hundreds of miles away. How would they get there in such a short time span- no. Surely not. Nerves bubbled up inside of him in anticipation as he understood what was going to happen. Jon was going to take them back on his dragon. How big was it? What colour was it? Would it be able to carry the three of them comfortably? What was Dragonstone like? Robb had never been before, and he wasn’t sure if his mother had either. It was a relatively big island with a few villages and a couple of towns if he remembered correctly. The castle built into the side of a mountain and rising high into the clouds, directly on the coast. Around an hour had passed before both were completely ready to leave this place, summoning for Jon as Roslin requested. An odd thing. It’s normally a King summoning subjects and not subjects summoning the King. 

He appeared not long after and gestured them to follow him. It was strange not seeing any males walking the corridors of the Twins apart from a couple of servants. They were handed thicker cloaks now, his eyebrows creasing a little. It was already warm in the Riverland’s, their current cloak already causing his throat to sweat. And it would be much warmer further south. Although, he wasn’t going to deny it was amusing seeing his mother wearing breeches. But if his hunch were correct in their mode of transportation, they would be much better suited. Small talk happened between them as they exited the castle and walking further away, wondering where he was taking them. This was answered as they came across a large field, Jon letting out a piercing whistle which caused him to wince. But awe overcame him as a creature long thought extinct landed directly in front of them, the power of his wings hitting him in the face. 

This must be Rhaegal. He was a dark green in colour, with swirls of bronze covering his body. Both he and his mother frozen in shock, but Jon clicked his fingers and a moment later he lifted his head in joy before scampering over to Jon, accepting the petting immediately. What stunned him more was the noise. Of all the things he had read about on dragons, not one he recalled stated that they purred, but that was definitely the noise breaking the otherwise silence. His brother gave him a small smile before nodding to the beast. Robb cautiously reaching a hand out too and clicking his fingers which caught the dragons attention. Steadily, Rhaegal lowered his head towards it but was hesitant the last couple of inches, Robb eventually taking the chance to touch the warm scales. Allowing him to sniff him before doing the same with Catelyn whom he noticed was now as white as snow. 

“He likes you both.”

He watched as Rhaegal lowered a wing, Jon immediately hoisting himself up as if it was second nature to him before reaching a hand down to help him do so. Robb swallowed deeply at this before noting how stiff the spikes were and he could probably use them as a ladder. It took him a few minutes to get seated and by the time he had done so, his mother had also been helped on too. 

“You can either hold on to the spikes or you can hold on to me, whichever you prefer. And put the thicker cloaks on, the wind as we’re flying will be very cold.”

Both pulled the cloaks on at this before he reached over to grab Jon’s waist, feeling his mother doing the same behind him and whispering furiously under her breath. The younger leaning forward ever so slightly and taking hold of two spikes and saying something in a language he didn’t recognise. He closed his eyes as fear gripped him tightly, even more so when he felt the wings beating before he began running across the field to build up speed. Before he could blink it seemed, they were in the air. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he dared to open his eyes, the wind immediately making them sting but he forced them to remain open. The sight immediately taking his breath away. He’d never been so high before in his life, and the feeling was nothing short of incredible. The dragon was moving almost gracefully through the air, the wind bitingly cold just like he had said. He could see numerous towns below alongside multiple castles, the sheer size of Harrenhal still surprising him. To think one dragon took that monstrosity and all its inhabitants down was something else. 

The wind steadily got warmer the further south they got, but still too cold to remove the cloaks, glad for the warning beforehand. When he had removed his arms from the other’s waist he didn’t know, taking hold of one of the spikes and sitting up straighter, but his mothers arms very much had a death grip on him still. Her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were turning white. It only felt like an hour or so had passed before the dragon began descending from the sky, seeing the crystal clear water below him with numerous islands, and the mainland nearby too. Seeing what appeared to be a large crater on the coast a bit further along. The lower they got, he could make out the multiple mountains on the islands in question, and it wasn’t long until a monstrous black castle came into vision, them landing in a large courtyard carved high into the mountain. A single stone walkway to the main castle aligned with orange trees and bushes with redcurrants, raspberries, mulberries, and strawberries. His mouth watering upon seeing them. Jon looped his leg over to slide off the dragon, him helping them in doing so too, almost falling over as their legs buckled upon being on solid ground again. The dragon darted into the sky again before the younger looked to them.

“This field was made for dragons landing when the castle was built. The exit leads directly into the personal quarters of the castle. I’d imagine he’s away to find his brother to chase him.”

Robb looked down the pathway to the castle, his eyes widening as he took in the ancient Valyrian architecture. The only remaining piece of it there was in Westeros. The Seat itself was an impressive sight, the fused stone being jet black and bouncing light off it the same way sunlight bounces off a polished stone. The corners of the walls were carved with dragons, griffins, and numerous other creatures he had never seen or heard of before. Creatures that had gone extinct when the Doom happened. An elderly man came out to greet them, leaning heavily on a cane as he done so, his brother walking over to greet him warmly. His gaze trailed to his mother now and he noticed the way her eyes widened in recognition, who was this man? Seaworth, that was a name he recognised from somewhere. Then it hit him. This man was previously Hand to Stannis, how was he now Hand to Jon? 

“Your son is safe, Ser Davos. He’s taking over after an urgent family matter came to light. I’m sure you’ll recognise my aunt, and this is my cousin Robb.”

It felt weird to be referred to as his cousin and not his brother.

“Your Grace, I thought they were killed years before-“

“Apparently not. Walder kept them separated from the other prisoners and hostages. I recognised them both immediately. I have already caught them up on everything. Please find my brother, sister, and my wife. Have them be brought to our rooms.”

He bowed his head before heading back into the castle, them following behind. Both being led into a grand room which immediately made the room they had stayed the night in beforehand look cheap. To say he was nervous was an understatement, they were coming face to face with Arya and Bran for the first time since their father had left for Kings Landing. And not only this, they were about to be faced with Jon’s wife and Queen, someone they had only heard bad things about such as the mass crucification of the Masters. 

“This is the room I’ve been sharing with my wife until we decide where to relocate. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Jon took off his own cloak and pinned a brooch to his chest, one of a roaring three-headed dragon. Very much an embodiment of a true Targaryen King. 

“When is Sansa due to arrive?

It was only there for a split second, but he spotted the small grimace on the younger’s face as he spoke her name. Yes, something had definitely happened there, and he was going to find out. 

“She should be here by the end of the week, it’s a long journey from Winterfell to Dragonstone. It was rebuilt after the Bolton’s burned it down. It’s not the same, but it’s close enough that it still looks and feels like Winterfell.”

Both were gestured to the large table in the room beside two massive doors. Jon opened them and they were met with an incredible view of the beach and sea beside the castle. All sitting down as they awaited on three people to appear.


End file.
